Haven
by HelloDenmark
Summary: Drowning under the weight of grief and memories, Legolas struggles to create a new life for himself in the forests of Ithilien. The question is whether or not he has been scarred irreversibly by war and loss. Forth in the Hope of Mirkwood series.
1. One last battle

**HAVEN**

This story is a part of the Hope of Mirkwood series, therefore I would recommend going back and reading the others before this one.

The story takes place in the Forth age, after the events of the Lord of the Rings, and it will revolve mostly around Legolas' life in Ithilien.

Characters:

Thranduil (His wife, Emelin, died giving birth to Kirion in Coldness)

Legolas (born TA 1037)

Faneth (Legolas' wife, died in War of Light and Darkness)

Maliel (Their daughter – born TA 2510, married to Elrohir)

Hithel (Legolas' younger sister – born TA 2032, sailed)

Gwaur (Hithel's husband, sailed)

Kirion (Legolas and Hithel's younger brother – born TA 2493)

Alfirin (Legolas' minder when he was an elfling)

Yúcalë (Alfirin's nephew)

Legolas' old team:

Aewon, Húron, Gruinor, Osbon, Ecthel, Thand, Amath, Callon, Roben, Pengon, Hiwon, Maer and Taenor

Warriors trained intensely by Legolas, elite team in Mirkwood.

 _*Of these only Gruinor, Roben, and Pengon are still alive._

O

 **Chapter one – One last battle**

 _The year 3019 of the Third Age_

From the very moment the orcs had flooded upon their ranks, the world had once more turned to chaos as they stood there before the towering Black Gate of Mordor. The very sky was covered with thick layers of cloud that blocked out all light in an attempt to strengthen the darkness in this last battle.

Battle cries, guttural snarls from orcs, desperate orders, screams of pain and grief, and piercing shrieks from the fell beasts circling above their heads as they were attacked by giant eagles swooping down from the overcast sky to fight their shadowed kin, for if orcs were made from elves, tortured and mutilated, then it is possible that the Nazgul were eagles once. Everything mixed together in an unbearable noise that would not cease.

In the middle of this chaos, Legolas swirled, flew, and turned like water in motion, effortless and infinitely powerful. His white, twin knives cut through the air with nary a sound, already covered in black blood as they pierced the orcs that surround him just as easily as they would cut through water.

He caught an orcish scimitar on one blade while driving the other through the creature's throat, and black blood spattered upon his alabaster skin even as he withdrew his blade and caught the next weapon upon it. Another orc crept up behind him so he drew one of his blades across the throat of the orc in front of him before swirling around and burying the same knife in the other's chest, hardly taking a moment to breathe.

"Twenty!"

A reluctant, but feral, smile spread out upon Legolas' lips as the shout reached his ears and even as he dispatched the next orc he racked his memory for a count.

"Thiry-two!" Legolas chuckled. A roar of indignation followed the statement.

As Legolas kicked one of the orcs in the head and sent it sprawling to the ground, his sapphire blue eyes lifted from what was immediately around him. There he saw Gimli hacking furiously at the orcs in his reach. His friend was like an explosion of emotions and ferocity barreling through the battlefield. There was nothing elegant about the way he fought, but the shear brutality and roughness that the axe represented when he wielded it was still a force to be reckoned with.

Legolas was torn from his musings when he was forced to duck another blade and suddenly he found himself within the fight once more. The last fight… The last battle... Emotions he did not even understand welled up inside his chest constantly even though he pushed them down and numbed them as effectively as possible to focus. He did know, though, the weight that lay beneath every slash, behind every thrust, it was the weight of grief, of hope, of pain, of relief, of sadness, and of complete and utter fear…

Through his whole life, he had fought for this day and in the recent years this had been his target, this had been his reason to keep going and battling his way through every single, agonizing day. Now here he was… and what terrified him was the fact that he did not know what he was going to do when it was over, he could not think past the fight…

Suddenly a more ancient scream reverberated through the air. The sound was almost like that of a tortured animal, filled with agony and feral anger. Immediately, it sent a shiver racing down his spine, for the sound was agonizingly familiar. Legolas faltered in his flowing movement and gasped as it felt like shards of ice were thrust mercilessly and repeatedly through the old scars left by Sauron's black sword.

His face twisted into a grimace and he had to fight himself to keep holding on to his knives when all he wanted to do was to clasp his hands before his ears and shut his eyes so tightly that it would block out the memories that well up inside him of excruciating pain and harrowing coldness.

As he clenched his knives tighter in an attempt to keep his grip, he noticed that the orcs around him had also frozen, their eyes glazed with fear. The Nazgul shrieked as well and fled from the eagles, towards the Mountain of Doom.

Around him he heard the rejuvenated cries of the soldiers as they realized what was happening, but Legolas didn't follow them as they surged forward against the still indecisive orcs, and he barely registered as Gandalf commanded something through the sounds of battle. Icy tendrils had snaked their way deep inside him from his scars, the wounds he had known would never truly heal.

Just as Legolas blinked his wavering vision into focus and raised his knives, a loud rumble resounded through the field and the ground seemed to shake beneath his feet. Unable to keep his feet, Legolas collapsed to his knees with a grunt.

"Legolas!" He heard Gimli's gruff voice shout through the fog that surrounded him, but just as he was about to turn his head an even more ear-splitting shriek sounded through the air. Gasping, Legolas clasped his hands over his ears but forced his eyes to stay open and focused on what was happening inside the gates of Mordor.

A resounding rumble, explosions, and cries of panicked orcs joined in with the horrendous shriek and before their very eyes Morder began to crumble. Fire and ash erupted from the depths of the mountain of fire and the Black Gate crumbled into nothingness along with the Towers of the Teeth. Greatest, though, was the sight of Barad-Dúr, the black tower of adamant, as it crumbled without the power of the one ring, the flaming eye of Sauron screeching and wailing at its peak, but growing dimmer.

The eye burned out. In a brief second it seemed as though the whole world stood still, all sounds were muted and all actions had paused. In this moment a large shadow rose from the tower, rising up towards the violent skies, cackling and vast, and Legolas found that he recognized the shape of Annatar but this time he was not beautiful and haunting, instead Sauron's evil and decay shone through the disguise.

The large shadow stretched one of its hands threateningly out towards their army but then suddenly it whipped its head slightly to the right and Legolas found himself caught beneath the weight of Annatar's gaze, his hand readjusting its aim to him. Immediately, he cried out as ice was driven even more violently through the scars in his chest and he hunched over in response to the pain.

The whole world seemed to disappear and it was just the two of them, just like it had been in Dol Guldur. He knew that this was the last attack that Sauron could make, the last attempt to drag someone down with him before the power of the ring disappeared completely.

The last fight between light and darkness.

Legolas pushed his power through the walls around his mind and light burst like a wave of water out from his body, rolling and flooding over to field and over the darkness of Mordor. As the light cast itself against the vast form of Annatar a mixture of a scream and a roar was ripped from the shadow and suddenly sound and motion returned to the world around them. A mighty wind followed in the wake of his light and it tore through Mordor, blowing away the great shadow and collapsing the last of the Black Tower. Orcs were fleeing in panic over seeing their Master overcome and conquered.

As the wind swept violently over the land, the thick clouds that covered the sky were washed away and the brilliant light of the sun burst through the darkness, momentarily blinding him with its splendor. Warmth seemed to be absorbed into his chilled body as the rays of the sun danced upon his wet cheeks.

It was over…

" _Faneth did not give her life for you to die!"_

" _She gave her life for freedom!" Legolas roared, "She allowed me to go because she believed that one day, we would not have to be afraid, and we would not have to live under the crushing weight of shadow and by the Valar I will see her wish accomplished! I will be there when the clouds roll back from the sky and the light is allowed to shine through without hindrance! I will be there when the war of light and darkness comes to an end!"_

It was done…

Legolas gazed unwaveringly towards the sun but even the warmth and hope that the light brought with it could not contain the waves of grief that rolled over him, knowing that Faneth wasn't there to see everything they had hoped for come true. As he closed his eyes to the light, he pushed another tear down his cheek.

I wish you could have seen this Faneth… The sun is shining once more… Finally the world is safe for our daughter and our grandchildren…

"Laddie?"

Gimli's hesitant voice made him open his eyes once more and gaze at Gimli, who was standing uncomfortably before him with a mixture of worry and apprehension in his eyes. The dwarf's axe was black with the blood of orcs and he could see no signs of wounds on him.

"The sun shines, my friend," Legolas whispered.

"Aye," Gimli agreed, the tension leaving him. He reached out to place one of his hands upon Legolas' shoulder.

Legolas once more looked towards the sky, seeing the eagles circling overhead and flying towards Mordor. A strange sense of numbness was starting to fill him and, not for the first time, he felt that his purpose was completed… He felt an overwhelming urge to concede defeat as well, an urge to leave the new world he had fought for to the next generation, for he had lost nearly everything in trying to achieve it and there was almost nothing left.

But his daughter had asked him to stay…

"What was the final count?" Legolas asked and if his voice shook then Gimli didn't comment on it.

He needed to keep fighting…

Gimli grumbled gruffly under his breath and involuntarily Legolas felt the corners of his lips curve in amusement. "Thirty-six," Gimli finally muttered annoyed, glaring at him as if daring him to overstep it.

A chuckle bubbled up inside him and flowed past his lips like the clear sound of silver bells. "Forty-one."

Immediately, Gimli grabbed his axe and looked around for more enemies. He would have run off after the fleeing orcs if Legolas had not placed his hands upon the hands that gripped the axe. Gimli's brown eyes moved and locked onto his sapphire blue.

"I think perhaps that we have spilled enough blood already," Legolas said softly. "You have shown beyond doubt the stubbornness and the fierceness of the dwarves and I am proud to have fought beside you in this last battle, Elvellon." [Elf-friend]

"Legolas!"  
Legolas looked up and felt relief flood him when he saw the identical figures racing over to battlefield towards him. Elladan and Elrohir were slightly bloody but nothing about them gave any hint to larger wounds. Elrohir reached him first and kneeled before him, looking over him anxiously before leaning his forehead against his, their eyes closing.

"You have done it, my friend," Elrohir whispered. "If this victory belonged to anyone then it is you."

Legolas shook his head against Elrohir's. "This victory belonged to the fellowship and most especially to Frodo and Sam, for without them Sauron's realm would never have fallen."

"Gandalf has gone in search of them," Elladan said as he kneeled beside his brother. "Gwaihir agreed to carry him to Mount Doom. …You are wounded, Legolas."

Elrohir drew back and Legolas opened his eyes to look down himself. His green tunic was stained red upon his chest, but he felt no pain from the wounds, only numbness. He could not remember getting touched by any blades…

Elrohir reached out and drew up his tunic and undershirt as much as the leather straps that tied his twin knives and his quiver to his back would allow. A small gasp left him when he saw where the blood had come from and he reached out to place his fingers against Legolas' chest.

"I don't understand," Elrohir whispered. "These wounds were healed long ago."

Legolas was still staring at the blood that flowed in rivulets down from the newly opened scars left from Sauron's black sword and remembered the feeling of shards of ice stabbing through them. Suddenly, pain and coldness flooded through his body as if the memory had unlocked whatever hid the sensation from him and he grunted, grimacing.

"They were never healed," Legolas ground out, "not completely. They remained as a connection between Sauron and I, just as the wound from the morgul blade will forever remain upon Frodo. This was Sauron's last attempt at dragging me down with him, luckily he was already weakened because of the destruction of the ring and therefore easy to fight off."

"Easily fought off or not, these wounds need treating," Elladan said. "They are not healing as they should. The bleeding is not even slowing down. Come Legolas, Aragorn has set up a place to take care of the wounded." He reached down and pulled Legolas to his feet, placing his arm over his shoulders when he felt Legolas stagger.

"Master Gimli, would you find Aragorn and bring him?" Elrohir asked, "I think that his skills will be necessary."

"Of course," Gimli responded gruffly and took one last look at Legolas before hurrying off after Aragorn.

The twins hurriedly shepherded Legolas over to where the wounded were being brought, never once letting him support himself. Blood started flowing faster from the wounds because he was standing upright and moving, and so by the time they reached the target he was leaning alarmingly against Elladan's support. Elrohir ducked under his other arm and they moved him over to a vacant spot, laying him down carefully.

Once Legolas was down, Elladan hurried off after bandages and other supplies while Elrohir took Legolas' chilled hand in his. It was obvious that the wounds unnatural; they seemed to be sucking the life from Legolas, making him bleed more than he should, keeping his natural healing ability from working…

"Hang on, Legolas," Elrohir said and took off his cloak to press it against the wounds in an attempt to stem the blood flow. "Estel will be here soon."

"Doesn't he more important things to see to…?" Legolas whispered with a halfhearted smile, while flinching at the pain. "There are many others who have been injured… and many who will turn to their King for instructions…"

"Don't be a fool, Legolas," Elrohir said vehemently, placing more pressure on the wounds as the blood began to soak through the cloak. "I can think of nothing that could be more important than helping you. No matter how you try to wave off your part in Sauron's destruction, we all know that it is largely thanks to you that we are here today …that we were able to win today. No one is more deserving of the peace that is to come than you so don't you dare give in now!"

"I do not know how to live in peace, Ro…" Legolas mumbled, closing his eyes and allowing his head to roll to the side so his cheek rested against the pallet. "I have no purpose in the new world…"

Elrohir choked out a sob and leaned down so his forehead rested against Legolas'. "You have a very important purpose…" he choked. "You are going to be the grandfather of my sons… and I would have them know you… I would have them look up to you… You do not need to know how to live in peace Legolas… You didn't know how to fight when you were born either; it was something you learned… We will teach you to live in peace."

"…I'm beginning to feel old." Legolas chuckled bitterly.

"I should hope not…" Elrohir smiled with forced amusement, sadness evident in his voice. "If you are beginning to feel old then where does that leave me? Almost a thousand years older than you, married to your daughter, and about to have my very first children?"

"You'll be a perfect father…" Legolas breathed.

"And you'll be a perfect grandfather."

"Elrohir!"

Elrohir jerked up his head up and looked almost frantically in the direction of the voice. He saw Aragorn racing across the plain, dodging pallets with wounded as well as healers and soldiers. Gimli was trailing slightly behind him, breathing heavily.

"Legolas?!"  
"He's still with us!" Elrohir shouted back, knowing what conclusion Aragorn must have drawn when he had seen him lying halfway draped over Legolas. The way that his foster-brother sagged slightly in relief showed that this assumption had been correct. When he looked to his right he could also see Elladan hurrying towards them with his arms full of supplies.

Turning his attention back to Legolas, he looked sternly into the now open, midnight blue eyes. "You listen to me now," he demanded. "You are going to fight this and you are going to allow us to take care of you without protest, and the moment you are well enough you are coming with Elladan and I when we ride back to Rivendell. It is almost time for the twins' birth. Your daughter is going to need you by her side. Do we understand one another?"

Legolas sapphire eyes softened. "Aye," he breathed. "…We understand one another…"

At that moment, Aragorn skidded to a halt beside the pallet and kneeled at Legolas' side. His steel grey eyes roamed quickly over Legolas' body before motioning for Elrohir to lift the cloak he was using to staunch the bleeding so he could see the wounds. Aragorn's expression turned grim and he looked back to take in Elladan's progress before moving closer to the head of the pallet.

"I saw what happened," Aragorn said softly, placing his hands against Legolas' cheeks and turning his face towards him, gazing deeply into his dark eyes. "Sauron was reaching out towards me… I know he was… but then it was like his attention was jerked to something else and when I turned I saw you, kneeling on the ground. I could see that you were in pain, but I didn't think he had the power left to do something like this…"

"…He possesses a great hatred for me…" Legolas breathed, his sapphire eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. "…It gave him… enough strength…" Shiver raced over Legolas' body and Aragorn was able to feel the coldness of the elf's skin beneath the surfaces of his palms.

A moan left Legolas' bloodless lips as his eyes first blinked sluggishly in an attempt to stay awake before sliding shut. Aragorn called out his name and shook him, but Legolas' body had already gone limp and consciousness had fled him.

Just as Aragorn was about to despair, Elladan reached them and kneeled beside his twin. Quickly, he handed Aragorn a few leaves of Athelas as well as a basin with hot water. Aragorn wasted no time in placed the basin in his lap and placing the leaves against his lips so he could breathe his strength into them. Then he crushed them and a sweet and fresh fragrance filled the air as they were cast into the warm water.

Aragorn took a small towel that Elladan was holding out towards him and soaked it in the water before gently cleansing the reopened wounds upon Legolas' chest. Afterwards, he soaked the towel once more and wrung the access water from it before placing it upon Legolas' forehead, keeping his hand upon it and closing his eyes.

A long moment passed where no one moved. They watched as Aragorn grew pale and sweat began to appear upon his brow. But then Aragorn once more opened his bright, silver eyes.

"Awaken Legolas, you who has fought more than any," he commanded gently, but with unmistakable authority. "It is time to rejoice instead of despair for at long last the darkness has been defeated by light. Walk no more in shadow, but join those who love you."

At those words, Legolas' sapphire blue eyes fluttered open once more and for a while they stayed locked in the strong gaze of the new King before he looked around him. Elrohir, Elladan, and Gimli were all watching him with unbarred emotions in their eyes.

All tension left Legolas' body at this and he returned his eyes to Aragorn before whispering softly, "So be it…"

Aragorn smiled to him and leaned over him to press his lips against his forehead before whispering, "Rest now."

Legolas eyelids slid shut.

O

Legolas gently touched the side of Arod's white neck to steer him after Elladan and Elrohir's horses as they turned onto the path that wound down the mountains that surrounded Rivendell. Two days after the victory before the gates of Mordor, they had set out towards Rivendell so that they could make it back in time for Aragorn coronation in the beginning of May.

Elrohir rode at their front and it was clear that he was anxious to get back to Maliel. His eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the path before him and he spurred his horse quickly down the path. Elladan turned to Legolas and gave him a smile filled with amusement at his twin's plight but it faded when he saw the worry in his friend's sapphire blue eyes, darkened evermore with the grief of losing Faneth.

"She will be fine," Elladan reassured him. "My father will be with her, and Maliel is strong."

Legolas nodded curtly but didn't say anything; instead he focused on making it down the path as quickly as possible, just like Elrohir. Therefore, it wasn't long before the ground beneath the hooves of the horses turned to cobblestone and they entered the courtyard before the doors of the Last Homely House.

Erestor and Glorfindel stood waiting upon the steps that led to the door, warned of their coming by the sound of the sentry's horn. Legolas saw the relief in Glorfindel's eyes as he looked him over briefly before turning to Elrohir. Erestor was already on his way to the twin.

"Elrohir, Maliel has been in labor for some hours now," Erestor said to Elrohir. He was about to say something else but the twin had already stormed into the house and Legolas wasn't long to jump off Arod and run after him.

They raced straight to the healing ward, but Legolas grabbed Elrohir's hand and yanked him back before he could enter the only closed room. The twin was about to yell at him but Legolas just dragged him over to a basin by the wall and pushed his hands into the water. Getting the hint, Elrohir quickly washed his hands and face while Legolas stripped him of his weapons, cloak, and outer tunic, which were all dirty and stained.

When he was somewhat clean, Elrohir turned to Legolas with widened eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but Legolas just pushed him towards the door.

"Just go to her, Ro," he said and watched as Elrohir hurriedly opened the door and slipped inside. For the brief moment the door had been open, Legolas had been able to hear the strenuous breathing of his daughter as well as her cry of joy when she had seen Elrohir. He was just about to start pacing the floor when a familiar voice rang out through the healing ward.

"Legolas."

Legolas spun around and saw his father sitting on one of the chairs in the ward, an abandoned book in his hand. For a moment they just stared at each other. Legolas could see the strain and the tiredness in his father's expression as well as the worry in his light blue eyes.

Blinking himself out of his stupor, Legolas moved over to the chair and kneeled beside it, placing his hand upon his father's thigh and gazing up at him, concerned.

"I heard that war had reached Mirkwood as well," Legolas said.

"Aye," Thranduil responded with a small smile and placed his hand against his firstborn's cheek, "it reached us. Under the command of one of the Ringwraiths, the orcs of Dol Guldur launched three attacks against our realm and Lothlorien. We managed to push back the attacks, and in coalition with Lothlorien we decided to march against the fortress. The fight happened under the trees in the southern forest and many of the trees were lost because of a great fire.

"Despite this, the combined forces of Mirkwood and Lothlorien, Beorn and Radagast managed to defeat the armies of Dol Guldur, though not without casualties… Galadriel went into the fortress and destroyed it for all eternity, banishing the shadow and shattering the walls. I met with Celeborn under the trees and gave him the Southern part of the forest for his help, just as the middle part was given to Beorn and the woodsmen. I kept everything from the mountains and upwards to myself…"

A large smile suddenly appeared on Thranduil's lips and he brushed Legolas' hair behind his ear on one side. "I cast 'Mirkwood' away and renamed the forest 'Eryn Lasgalen'." [Wood of green leaves]

Legolas stared at his father with widened eyes before letting his head fall into his lap with a groan. "Please don't tell me you named the forest after me…" He muttered despairingly.

Thranduil laughed at that and continued to brush his hand over his son's hair, his hand shaking slightly. The sheer relief of seeing Legolas hale and whole had been enough to leave him completely frozen when his son had first entered the ward with Elrohir, and it had been a while before he had been able to find his voice enough to call out to him, since his son obviously hadn't felt his presence.

No real word had been able to reach them because of the war, and although Elrond had received news of the destruction of Sauron and the war before the Black Gate, he hadn't been able to tell him of Legolas' fate. To have his son near after almost a year filled with fear for his fate after he had gotten the letter from Legolas saying that he was going on the quest was a blessing without equal.

Thranduil looked up when the door opened and watched as Elladan and Glorfindel entered the ward. The two of them smiled at the sight of the King and the Prince, for Legolas hadn't bothered raising his head from his father's lap, and Thranduil was still brushing his hand over his hair. They sat down of one of the beds and Elladan began telling Glorfindel of the journey home as well as the war of the ring.

Their conversation faded to the background, though, as Legolas and Thranduil began speaking once more.

"How did you come to be in Rivendell?" Legolas asked softly, turning his head slightly to the side so he could look at his father.

"The battle of Dol Guldur ended in the beginning of April and your brother offered to take over in managing Eryn Lasgalen so I could go to Rivendell to be with Maliel," Thranduil said as he brushed his fingers over Legolas' cheek. "I only arrived yesterday myself. I didn't know if you and Elrohir would be able to arrive in time for the birth and I didn't want her to be alone."

"Thank you," Legolas said softly. He was silent for a moment but then asked in a whisper, "Did anyone that I know die in the battle?"

Thranduil sighed, wishing that Legolas hadn't thought to ask. "Callon passed, Legolas, as did Urion and Tharbadon. There are others but you know these best."

Before Thranduil's eyes it seemed as though yet another part of his son was ripped out cruelly and Legolas' form sagged in a mixture of pain and weariness. Guilt welled up inside him because he knew that he was the one who had condemned Legolas to the life of a warrior.

Just thinking back to the happy elfling Legolas had been before he had thrust him mercilessly into a world of pain and horror threatened to make tears well up in his eyes and he was forced to breathe deeply to hold them back. Closing his eyes, Thranduil let a short prayer pass through his mind before he leaned forward and placed a kiss against his son's forehead.

He then drew back and continued to caress Legolas' silvery-white hair while asking, "What about you? How did you come to be here?"

"We rode from Ithilien a few days after the demise of Sauron so we could be here in time for the birth of the twins," Legolas answered wearily.

Thranduil could see that there was more to the story but he could also see the exhaustion on Legolas' expression. "There will be time later for you to tell me the whole story," he said gently. "For now I am just happy to see that you've returned in one piece. You look tired though, Legolas, …tired and strained."

"It has been a long journey," Legolas muttered.

"I do not doubt it." Thranduil was silent for a moment but then said, "Follow your own advice and wash up now, because soon it will be time for you to meet your grandchildren, and as you are now I'm not sure Elrond would let you within ten feet of them."

Legolas chuckled softly and got to his feet. He walked over to the basin, in which Elrohir has washed up, and dipped his hands into the clear liquid, washing away the grime and dust of the road. Leaning down, he splashed the water onto his face and combed wet fingers through his hair, untangling the braids and the worst knots.

When he was finished, Legolas dried himself with one of the towels and walked over to the cabinet that stood against the wall of the healing ward. Opening the topmost drawer, Legolas extracted Elladan and Elrohir's spare sets of clothing. He threw one of the sets to Elladan, who caught it with a smile, and both of them changed out of their travel-stained clothes.

Thranduil watched as Legolas changed, saw the scars that mapped his son's body and the bones that showed just underneath his skin. It was clear that he had lost even more weight during the quest, and there were many signs of wounds just recently healed. Elrohir's tunic hung painfully loose as it fell over Legolas' torso.

He opened his mouth to say something but the next moment a moan was hearable from behind the door between them and where Maliel was giving birth. Legolas' head immediately swirled towards the door, his eyes widened with worry. Without even thinking, Legolas rushed to the door only to stop himself inches from grabbing the doorknob. He stood there a moment but then began pacing before the door; his expression darkening as more sounds of pain came from the room behind.

Suddenly the muffled sound of Maliel hurling insults and curses at Elrohir sounded through the door and Legolas stopped pacing for a moment, a smile curving on his lips. She was her mother's daughter… that much was certain.

Barely half an hour passed after that before a howl of pain came from the room quickly followed by the shrill wailing of a newborn child. Legolas froze completely and stayed frozen throughout the twenty minutes it took for the sounds to pierce the air once again, just as strongly. Soon both laughter and gentle murmuring came from behind the door but Legolas was unable to make out what was said.

They didn't have to wait long before the door opened, forcing Legolas to take a hasty step backwards to avoid a collision, and Elrond came out with a smile upon his face. Legolas could feel the weight of the healer's eyes as they quickly scanned both him and Elladan before storing away his observations for later and smiling to them once more, "You can come in now."

Legolas let his gaze move from Elrond and into the room behind him. Immediately, he found himself locked in his daughter's sky blue eyes and for a moment nothing else existed. Even through obvious exhaustion, Maliel's eyes shone with relief and joy at seeing him. As tears welled up inside her eyes, he could no longer stay standing in the doorway and instead he hurried to her, pressing a kiss against her clammy forehead.

"Hey there, Princess," Legolas said softly.

"Ada…" Maliel greeted with tiredness in her voice. Nonetheless, she smiled brilliantly to him, and he found his worry dissipating enough to focus on more than just his daughter.

Elrohir was sitting on Maliel's bedside, glowing with joy, with a wriggling bundle in his arms. The baby's twin was lying on Maliel's chest with a soft, white blanket wrapped over him and his daughter's hand resting lightly upon his back. Legolas' eyes widened slightly with wonder and he crouched beside the bed so he was able to see the baby's face underneath the blanket. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers over the baby's red and warm cheek with the outmost of gentleness.

"His name is Naruvir," Elrohir's voice sounded.

Legolas reluctantly took his eyes off his grandson and looked up at Elrohir. The twin had gotten up from the bed and was walking over to him, Naruvir's twin still wriggling in his arms. When he stood before Legolas, Elrohir carefully handed the precious bundle over to him.

"And this is Caladel," he said softly, proudly. "Our firstborn."

Legolas' arms cradled Caladel with so much care and tenderness that it was almost painful to look at. Caladel settled almost immediately in his arms as his calm and gentle aura seeped through the blanket wrapped around his grandson to keep him warm. Legolas gazed upon the baby in his arms, his sapphire eyes gentle with wonder. Wisps of auburn hair covered the top of Caladel's head, and from what he had seen under the shadow of the blanket, the same could be said about Naruvir.

Legolas watched as Caladel's tiny nose crinkled slightly before a huge yawn spread the baby's lips. Afterwards, two large eyes were reluctantly opened to the world and Legolas found his eyes locked with a pair of pure, silvery grey, outlined with dark eyelashes. Caladel squinted at the light coming in from the windows and soon closed his eyes once more with a whimper.

Instantly, Legolas shushed him and caressed his soft cheek gently, moving his finger over his features almost as if he was etching them into his memory. Caladel waved his arms slightly so Legolas' fingers soon found their way down to one of his tiny hands, holding it and watching as the little fingers curling themselves around his finger.

The others in the room were watching Legolas with the baby with smiles upon their lips. Elrohir had sat down beside Maliel once more and the two of them were alternating between gazing at Legolas with their firstborn, and looking after their precious Naruvir. Thranduil moved over to them, congratulating his granddaughter softly and gazing upon his youngest great-grandson.

Legolas seemed only to be aware of the little baby in his arms, murmuring softly to him and caressing him. He was so unlike the innocent baby he held in his strong arms… The shadow of hardship and grief hung over him and his shoulders almost couldn't hold up the burdens laid upon them any longer, whereas Caladel was free of all care and troubles.

From the way Legolas was clinging to his grandson, it seemed to them as though Caladel was the only thing that kept him from collapsing.

When some time had passed, Elladan stepped forward with a smile and asked softly, "Can I see my nephew as well?"

Legolas looked up at him, tears in his eyes. "What?" He asked softly, not having registered what Elladan had said.

Elladan shook his head and walked over to him, briefly resting his forehead against Legolas'. "Never mind," he said and gazed down upon Caladel in Legolas' arms.

They stayed like that for a while but soon both Caladel and Naruvir began whimpering and crying. Legolas and Maliel shushed them softly, trying to comfort them, but Elladan and Elrohir just smiled knowingly.

"Come, Legolas," Elladan said gently and guided Legolas over to Maliel's bed. "We best not keep the two of them apart for too long."

Understanding what he meant, Legolas gave Caladel over to his father who gently laid the baby beside his brother so Maliel cradled both. Almost instantly the twins' tiny hands found each other and they stopped crying.

* * *

 _A/N: I just graduated from my school today so I thought the best way to celebrate is to post the first chapter of the follow-up to 'War of Light and Darkness', despite the fact that I haven't written more than a few chapters the past four months because of school and exams... (Glad that's over! :D - for now)_

 _P.s. I hope you enjoyed the last scene as much as I did ^_^_


	2. The unlikeliest of friendships

_AN: Thanks for all the reviews! It's nice to read thoughts from both old and new readers :)_

 _Silver Queen:_ Tusind tak! Jeg er glad for at du kan lide den! (Vildt med første danske anmeldelse :D)

 **Chapter two – The unlikeliest of friendships**

Rubble from the shattered Deeping Wall lay scattered upon the ground and the Hornburg itself fared little better in the aftermath of the battle that had taken place some months past. After attending to the funeral of Théoden and the coronation of Éomer, Legolas and Gimli had asked permission to visit the site and fulfill the oath they had given one another.

Now they walked amongst the rubble, an elf and a dwarf. Although they seemed like the unlikeliest of companions, a bond had been formed between them through the battle and hardships of war. Much had changed since the first time they had met and they now walked in solemn respect of the lives that had once been lost.

"I struck a bargain with Éomer," Gimli said gruffly as they walked through the hole in the Deeping Wall and onto the expanse behind it. "I told him that if he allowed me to take up residence in the Glittering Caves then I would rebuild the Hornburg for him."

"I'm sure that you were a little more persuasive than just striking a bargain," Legolas chuckled in return as he skipped lightly over a few rocks.

"Nonsense," Gimli huffed, and puffed himself up slightly. "Not even a man of Rohan can resist the charm and cunningness of dwarves when they come bearing tankards of ale." He smiled to himself for a moment, but then turned to Legolas and laughed roguishly, a merriness stemming from deep inside his chest. Legolas could not help but let his bell-like chuckles ring out alongside the deep sound.

They headed towards the White Mountains that served as the backdrop to the Deeping Wall as well as the backbone of the Hornburg. Near the basis of the Deeping Wall a boulder hid the entrance that led into the caves underground.

"Soon Master Elf, you will see wonders, which only the beauty of the radiant Lady Galadriel can hope to compare to," Gimli said, his brown eyes showing pride and distant wonder. "Perhaps when this journey is over you will no longer find your heart so captured by the great trees that you hold so dear."

"I do hold them dear," Legolas responded with an undertone of melancholy in his voice, "but alas, I fear Galadriel was correct to caution me against the sound of the sea, for now I have heard it and find that in my remaining time upon this earth it will pull at my heart until it has severed me from the trees forever."

Legolas could see that his words troubled Gimli and smiled softly. Despite mocking him for his connection to trees and his habit of disappearing into the foliage, his friend apparently didn't have as much against it as his words implied. Recently Legolas had been able to read some fondness in his teasing.

"Perhaps it would have been better if you had heeded her warning and returned to your own land," Gimli said with a frown.

"Nay," Legolas sighed, closing his eyes and tilting his head towards the sun. "Many sacrifices were made to win this war. I would forsake neither Aragorn nor you in the middle of the battle. When you think of what Frodo has given for the cause then my hurts are nothing in compare."

"You may not have lost a lot in _this_ war, laddie," Gimli said, his voice serious. Legolas opened his eyes and locked his gaze with Gimli's intense, brown eyes. "But from what little I've heard and from what I can see with my own eyes, I know that you've lost more than anyone in the fellowship if your whole life is taken into account. For you to lose one of the last things that bind you to this earth…"

Legolas breathed the fresh air in deeply. Then he stopped and placed his hand upon Gimli's shoulder. "I have lived for many years, Gimli son of Gloin," he said softly, his eyes looking kindly into Gimli's. "For a long time I have known that my wounds are far too grievous to ever be completely healed upon these shores. Therefore, I would ask you not to grieve for this world-weary warrior for no matter what, this would have been my fate. One day perhaps, we will set sail together and see for ourselves the beauty of the blessed realm."

Gimli felt a mixture of annoyance and sadness well up inside his chest and cleared his throat awkwardly. Many times along their journey he had questioned the maturity of his elven companion, because despite what Legolas had been through there was still moments when he would seen almost childlike in the way that he seemed to be amazed by every aspect of the nature around him.

Even in those moments though, there was a shadow over him, a shadow that bespoke how many centuries Legolas had wandered the earth, and how much he had been through. It seemed to be a constant occurrence that Legolas lost himself in memories, and when he did, Gimli had taken it upon himself to shake him out of them, simply because he could not stand the dark expression on one whose face should always be lit up by a smile.

"It would truly be a splendor if it can match the beauty of the Glittering caves," Gimli said gruffly.

Legolas smiled. "I have yet to see that which you praise so highly, my friend. Let us visit these caves of yours."

Legolas straightened out and they began their trek towards the opening once more. When reaching it, Gimli stopped and took off his backpack to pull out one of the torches they had brought with them. They had brought enough supplies to spend the night in the cave, giving them enough time to explore its depths and secrets.

Once the torch was lit, Gimli directed his attention to his elven companion and saw that the elf's sapphire eyes were fixed upon the dark opening of the cave, slightly unfocussed and darkened.

"Ai, save me from the melancholy of elves," Gimli grumbled loudly. "You would think that you have lived enough years to become tired of your own thoughts…"

Legolas chuckled softly in response, his eyes having returned to the world of the living the moment Gimli had spoken, though there was still a faint shadow over his eyes.

"I am actually quite young for my race," Legolas commented.

"Bah!" Gimli exclaimed and argued, "Youth is not measured by the years alone if it was then there would be no explanation as to how I am so gracious and sensible in comparison to your foolish, gallivanting self."

Legolas cocked an eyebrow at him, the lasting shadow being replaced by amusement.

"But come now, my friend, for although the way may seem dark you will soon see glittering gems, splendid enough to replace your cherished sun," Gimli said and led the way through the entrance to the caves, holding the torch high so it lit up their path.

For a long time they walked in the narrow tunnel, travelling further and further underground, but then slowly the tunnel began to expand and then it wasn't long before they found themselves in a vast space. Legolas' eyes widened as they took in the sight and Gimli smirked into his beard as he watched his friend's reaction.

The cave that the tunnel opened up to was too vast to be completely lit up by the torch they had brought but still the flickering, orange light illuminated rock in numerous forms and shapes. It hung from the walls like curtains and from the ceiling like icicles, creating arches and spirals. Matching spires rose from the ground, creating spears, sculptures and mounds upon the rocky ground.

The room itself spread out in all directions and it seemed to open up to more caves and tunnels. In the far side of the cave there was a large, blue-green lake, which rivers flowed through the space and into far off caves and tunnels, the still waters reflecting everything above them. Stone hung done from the ceiling and into the water in some places, creating large columns, and in other places boulders rose through the aquamarine water.

Greatest though were the tiny specks of light that came from some places in the ceiling and reflected the light of the torch. Gems of emerald and sapphire and ruby and crystal were sporadically embedded in the high ceiling of the caves and sent soft rays of color over the stone around them.

Legolas' eyes softened as he saw the small specks of light and a small smile crept over his lips. He turned and looked down upon his companion. "You are right, it is beautiful," he said and then returned his gaze to the cave. "It is almost like a forest in stone, bathed in the light of the stars…" He closed his eyes for a moment before saying, "but I can feel no life."

"No, life?" Dwarf huffed, "well that's just typical of you pointy-eared tree-crawlers. Of course there is life here, it was beaten into the stone by Mahal himself. If you listen you can hear the deep and steady thrumming coming from way down in the rock."

A smiled tugged at the corners of Legolas' lips, but he dutifully closed his eyes once more, spreading out his senses. His breathing became calm and deep as he relaxed and banished all thoughts from his head except for the one that told him to look for any sign of life.

After a while he opened his eyes. "I believe that each race has their own gift, my friend. Yours is to hear the stone while mine is to hear the forest." He looked at Gimli and asked, "Would you show me, though? Would you let me hear what you hear?"

Gimli's brown eyes looked deeply into his as if trying to gauge whether or not feeling something through Gimli was something he was capable of, but then he nodded. "Aye," he said. "I will show you."

Legolas smiled gratefully and watched as Gimli once more concentrated on the song of the stone. When a small gesture from Gimli told him that the dwarf was ready, Legolas rested his faintly shimmering hand upon his friend's coarse, bearded cheek and delved into his mind, knowing to go slow after his previous experiences with Sauron.

It wasn't long before he located what he was looking for because the song of the stone and Gimli seemed to be at one. The dwarf's heartbeat thumped along with the steady and sturdy thrumming that came from the stone, and it seemed as if vibrations travelled up his body from the ground beneath his feet. The life he felt from the stone was nowhere near as vibrant and as lively as that which came from nature, but even though it was weaker there was the same constancy to it as there was to the never-aging stone.

Legolas' sapphire blue eyes opened slowly once more, pulling his mind away from Gimli's and leaving the song that only the dwarf could hear. He found himself locked in Gimli's tranquil brown eyes and said, "You are right, my friend. There is life in here. Thank you for showing me, perhaps I will not find the idea of entering caves quite so disconcerting because of this knowledge."

Gimli laughed uproariously and exclaimed, "that will be the day! Elves living underground! Perhaps then dwarves will build their halls above ground in the trees! Come, friend! If I already have you awestruck now, then we must continue our journey and find places of unparalleled splendor!"

And so Gimli and Legolas followed the course of the underground river through caves, tunnels, and caverns alight with gems and filled with rock formations in all shapes and sizes, hanging from the ceiling our bursting through the ground. As they walked, Gimli talked of how he would transform the caves to great halls and rooms for his kin. As a result Legolas also found himself gaining knowledge about dwarven architecture and a great many other customs. First when they arrived in the place where the underwater river ended did they halt.

By far this cave was the most wondrous they had come through. It was like a dome in shape with countless of gems embedded in the ceiling like colorful stars, which were reflected in the blue-green water of the underwater lake that filled most of the dome. The walls themselves were a multitude of colors because of minerals, and several stone columns rose from the lake to the ceiling. Stalactites dripped water onto their counterparts that rose from the ground, creating a peaceful melody.

Gimli and Legolas stopped at the entrance to the dome in awe of the space in front of them before they looked at each other and smiled, entering the dome at the same time. For a time they wandered about the cave but then they began setting up camp against the wall beside the lake.

As always during their travels, Gimli found the logs that he had brought in his pack and set about making a small fire so he could begin making dinner. Legolas smiled ruefully at the scene, remembering the first and only time he had cooked for his friend. Gimli hadn't let him come close to a pot after that.

Bereft of his usual job, which was taking care of the horses, Legolas once more gazed around the dome, eyeing the colored jewels and crystal imbedded in the stone. A glint of amber caught his eye and his focus immediately flicked to a small gem in the wall beside their camp, glittering in a honey-yellow light that was highlighted by the first flames of the fire. The color sent a sharp jab of longing mixed with pain through his chest and he hurriedly looked away again, towards the lake.

"I'll take a swim," he said calmly, no sign of his inner turmoil. Gimli grunted something undecipherable so Legolas took it as an affirmative reply and walked over to the verge of the underground lake.

Gimli kept his eyes on what he was doing as Legolas stripped out of his clothes, but looked up just as the elf waded into the clear, blue-green water. He remembered a time when Legolas wouldn't bathe before them and the reason was just as obvious then as it was now. Old scars mapped the elf's body, which showed signs of both neglect and malnutrition.

 _Gimli awoke to the sound of jumbled and muttered cries. Before he even truly recognized this, however, another sound joined the first, coming from the unmistakable voice of the elf of the company._

" _Sîdh Frodo," the voice whispered and shushed the hobbit. "Coiva o sin dûr ôli."_

 _Gimli opened his eyes, annoyed of the elf's use of a language that he could not understand. At that moment, Frodo's eyes snapped up and he sat up with a gasp, only to be gently pushed back down by the elf. The firelight illuminated the elf sitting beside Frodo's bedroll in the middle of the camp._

" _Legolas…?" Frodo asked breathlessly._

" _Yes, it is I," Legolas whispered back soothingly, brushing his hand over the hobbit's damp curls._

" _Why are you awake?" Frodo mumbled and looked down, his cheeks tinting slightly._

 _Legolas smiled. "Ada often cursed me for being an extremely light sleeper. I woke when I heard your distress and wanted to wake you before you would have had to deal with the whole camp watching over your every move." He reached down and tilted the hobbit's face up with a few fingers under his chin. "Worry not for sad dreams, for they are but clouds that will soon pass over the sun."_

" _You have nightmares?" Frodo asked._

 _Legolas smiled at that, "I have had more nightmares than can be counted with the days of your life. I have lived for a long time, young hobbit."_

 _Frodo chuckled, but suddenly winced and rubbed the morgul wound underneath his collarbone. Legolas' sharp eyes immediately caught the action, and Gimli watched as the elf stood up and walked over to his own bag. He found a water skin, a tin mug, and a pouch. The elf knelt by the fire and proceeded to warm water in one of Sam's pots before mixing a tea from whatever was in the pouch._

" _Here," Legolas said softly, holding out the mug as he knelt by Frodo's side again. "It should help with the coldness of the wound and the dark dreams."_

 _Frodo took the mug, but his brows furrowed. "How do you know this? I recognize the pouch. You've made tea with it many times during our journey."_

 _Gimli almost thought that the elf wouldn't answer, but surprisingly after a while Legolas said, "I received similar wounds decades ago, it wasn't from a wraith but Elrond found them quite similar. I use the tea to decrease the effects it has on my body. You should know them by now: coldness, dizziness at times, nightmares, …pain."_

 _Frodo's blue eyes had widened slightly and he looked upon Legolas in shock and a small sense of dread._

" _Can Elrond not heal you?"_

 _Legolas smiled gently. "Elrond and other healers have done what they can for me, but I will never be free of the wounds or their effects… It is a burden I have resigned myself to bearing. They are too strong and filled with darkness to be countered easily…"_

"… _Who did it…?" Frodo whispered._

 _Gimli couldn't read the elf, couldn't see past the airtight barrier in those sapphire eyes, but he could see the elf's chest rise and fall slowly as he took a deep breath. "Someone whose name I will not utter here," Legolas finally said softly. "You of all should know who I speak of Frodo."_

 _The hobbit paled slightly and without conscious thought his hand wandered up to grip the ring around his neck. Legolas watched the action closely._

" _Did you say wounds…?" Frodo breathed worriedly._

 _Legolas just reached out and ruffled the hobbits hair, though, smiling gently to him. "Do not worry for me, my friend. I am more hardy than I look," Legolas said, standing up. "Drink the tea Frodo and then go back to sleep. I think I will wash the stains of travel off my skin."_

" _Thank you, Legolas."_

" _You are welcome."_

 _Gimli's gaze followed the elf as he walked over to Boromir, who was standing guard, and told him that he was going to the lake to bathe. The Gondorian looked incredulous and stunned, no doubt because of the fact that it was a cold night, but nevertheless nodded, and soon Legolas was moving soundlessly through the camp and into the trees._

 _He stayed like that for a while, watching as Frodo drank the tea, but he could feel his irritation and exasperation at the elf growing. Throughout the trip, Legolas had been aloof and completely unpredictable. One moment he would be singing while jumping around in the trees, and the other his eyes would darken and he would get unresponsive. When this would happen, the elf had a bad habit of not answering their questions or just answering shortly and curtly, as if he were better than them._

" _I've had enough!" Gimli protested from where he was lying, making Frodo startle and others of the company jolt awake. The dwarf stood up while grumbling. "I'll show that elf that he won't die from mingling with the rest of us! I will no longer stand for him playing so high and mighty!"_

" _What is it now, Gimli?" Aragorn grumbled half-awake from the other side of camp._

" _The elf has gone to bathe at this hour!" Gimli complained gruffly, picking up his axe. "I am sick and tired of him thinking that he should be offered better alternatives compared to the rest of us. By my axe, I will see that this changes."_

 _The hobbits watched the dwarf with wide eyes as he stormed in the direction Legolas had gone._

" _Ai!" Aragorn yelled, jumping up from his bedroll and hurriedly dragging on his boots. "Gimli, wait! You do not know Legolas' reasons! Just wait!"_

 _The dwarf was already gone by then so Aragorn cursed before running after him, followed by the hobbits and Boromir, everyone except Gandalf who was still snoring in the corner of the camp._

 _As Aragorn reached the dwarf, he tried to place his hand on his shoulder to restrain him and said, "Wait Gimli, you don't know why he-"_

 _Gimli wrestled his shoulder out of Aragorn's hand and they burst through another bush, stumbling directly into the space before the lake. Legolas was already in the water, standing shoulder deep. He looked back at them, confused and alert, as they stumbled onto the lakeside followed by four hobbits and Boromir._

 _Legolas opened his mouth to say something but at that moment Gimli pointed his axe towards him. "I've had enough of you, elf!" he snarled gruffly, "Your race always think you're so much better than the rest of us! Don't think I've forgotten how your people tried to rob mine. How you locked my father in your dungeons as if he was some kind of peasant!"_

" _Gimli!" Aragorn growled._

" _Nay! I do not understand why_ he _even came on this quest!" Gimli shouted, "If you're so arrogant that you can't even bathe at the same time as the rest of us then you have no place in this fellowship! I for one would never trust someone like you to guard my back! I-"_

 _Gimli was abruptly cut off as Legolas suddenly dived under water. Immediately, the bristling dwarf cursed the elf in his own tongue and only continued doing so when Legolas reappeared. Unperturbed, Legolas smoothed his wet hair away from his face before walking towards the shore once more. Gimli's curses and swears slowly muted as more of the elf's body came out of the water._

 _Scars mapped the elf. White lines tracing over his torso, arms and legs. A circular brand, two slightly more blackened wounds, and many others showed upon his chest. Several straight white lines crossed over his wrists, a large burn blemished his shoulder, and a jagged scar wrapped around his upper arm. The circular mark of a healed arrow wound showed upon his thigh, and several others were also visible. The necklace with the ring on it, which Gimli had seen the elf fiddle with more than a few times still hung around his neck even when bathing._

 _Gimli was struck mute, the hobbits had paled, Boromir looked grim, but Aragorn's silver eyes held nothing but deep sadness. Legolas walked up the shore until he was standing right before Gimli._

" _I did not think it would hold so great value to you whether I bathed with the rest of you or not," Legolas said calmly. "Trust me when I say that I had no intention of offending anyone by choosing to do it this way, but I was trying to avoid having questions asked." He turned his gaze to the hobbits, "I also didn't want to frighten you."_

" _We are older than we look," Frodo whispered, the emotion in his eyes changing from shock to sadness._

 _Legolas chuckled softly. "Aye, you are," he smiled and said softly, "and yet you have lived your whole lives in peace in the Shire. I would not bring war and dark memories into the fellowship, which purpose, I think, is to create some sort of safe haven amidst all these dangers. Besides… I am much older than I look as well."_

" _I though elves were supposed to be able to heal scars…" Frodo said hesitantly, his eyes fixed on the slightly blacker scars._

 _Legolas' eyes shifted and he stared into nothing for a moment. "They have that ability, yes," he then said, looking at Frodo once more. "Something happened to me, however, that lessened my elven healing ability…"_

" _What happened?" Pippin asked innocently before Merry could stop him with a punch in the arm._

 _Legolas was silent for a while, fingering the ring in the necklace around his neck, but then he whispered, "My fëa was cut in half. …My wife, she died." [Spirit]_

" _Oh…" Pippin breathed, "Did you love her?"_

 _A smile curved Legolas' lips upwards slightly, and suddenly it seemed as though the sadness and grief that he had blocked from them since the beginning shone slightly through his defenses. "Aye," he whispered, "I loved her very much."_

 _There was silent for a few minutes but then Aragorn said, "Legolas, forgive me."_

 _Legolas' sapphire blue eyes turned to him, knowing that the man was the only one in the fellowship who knew at least some of his story. "Ennasië munta gohena," he said softly, the elvish language clinging musically through the forest. [There is nothing to forgive]_

 _When no more questions were directed towards him, Legolas turned and walked over to where he had piled his clothes, efficiently beginning to dress once more, not caring about the fact that he was still wet. Upon his back, the fellowship was able to see the same amount of scars that littered his torso._

 _When he was dressed, Legolas turned and said, "Let us go back and sleep, from what I can see there are still a few hours until dawn and we are going to travel far tomorrow."_

 _As they walked, Pippin skipped up beside Legolas and asked, "How old are you?"_

" _Pippin!" Sam scolded, "I'm sure Mister Legolas doesn't want you asking questions."_

" _It's all right, Sam," Legolas said and smiled to the hobbit, "I don't mind." He turned to Pippin once more, "I'm almost two thousand years old."_

 _Pippin eyes grew large._

" _So how long have you been fighting?" Merry asked, apparently encouraged by him allowing Pippin to ask questions._

" _Bah!" Gimli said, "Elves live so long that they have unlimited years to cuddle their children! Dwarves on the other hand are hardened for battle already after their fortieth birthday!"_

 _A sigh from Legolas made Pippin and Merry snicker. "Sometimes I truly do wonder," Legolas said, "if dwarves are taught anything at all about the customs of elves, or if nothing is passed on from the previous generations except old grievances and grudges."_

" _And I suppose you're any different?" Gimli huffed indignantly._

" _In my opinion," Legolas said. "A time when there was no animosity between elves and dwarves is still remembered by the elven kind and knowledge gathered in those days was been passed down through the generations. I have learned your language, your history, and every custom that we know of."_

 _At that moment, they entered their camp once more. Legolas walked over to the fading fire and calmly began building it up once more. The others gathered round, curious about the elf in their company. This was the first time Legolas had told them anything about himself and they hoped that he would continue despite Gimli's comments._

 _When Legolas looked up and saw them waiting eagerly, he chuckled softly before continuing, "To answer your question Merry most elves train from their fortieth birthday, the same as dwarves, and are allowed to join patrols when they reach their majority at the age of fifty. My own situation was a bit different because I was the King's son, so-"_

" _Oh yes, I've heard tales of your arrogant father, who first turned his back on my race and then tried to steal from them. I bet he didn't have the spine to put his own son at risk!" Gimli spat, angered at being ignored by Legolas. "No doubt he was the one who branded you like cattle, don't think I didn't notice how the letter 'T' was etched into your skin. I must say that even I did not think the so-called 'King' would be that cruel, but I suppose it wasn't completely impossible."_

 _Legolas' expression darkened and he stiffened, his eyes turning icy. Just as he was about to rise to the dwarf's bait, though, Aragorn's fist came out of nowhere and smacked into Gimli's jaw, knocking the sturdy dwarf sideways. Immediately, Aragorn winced and shook his hand with a pained grimace._

 _Before Gimli could shout at him, Aragorn said angrily, "There is much I would suffer being said Gimli son of Gloin, but this was taking it a step too far. I can assure that_ King _Thranduil has never laid a hand on his children." Legolas grimaced inwardly. "Do you know how I know this? I know this because the exact same brand mars my brother's skin and I know that it was brought there through more pain and hardship than you can imagine!"_

 _Aragorn paused before continuing, "…I suggest that you take some rest for you are clearly more tired than you realize if you cannot keep your thoughts to yourself."_

 _Gimli was about to retort, but seeing the hobbits' wide-eyed expressions, he returned grumbling to his bedroll. Despite the fact that he turned his back towards them, however, he continued to listen to the conversation._

 _Aragorn and Legolas' voices conversed for a while in elvish, hindering anyone but Frodo and partially Boromir from understanding what they were saying, since Gandalf for some reason was still snoring in the background._

 _When Legolas reverted back to the Common tongue his voice was once more serene and calm, as if nothing had happened. "Since I was the King's son there was more need of me on the battlefields so I was trained for combat after my eighth birthday and I joined patrols by the time I was eighteen." He gazed upon Merry, "So I suppose you can say that I've been fighting for a long time, Master Hobbit. I've been fighting for a long time indeed."_

As Gimli looked upon Legolas now, he could see how arrogant he himself had been towards the elf in the beginning of their journey together. He had turned into the very image that he had been taught to hate. In hindsight he could see that Legolas had never done anything deliberate to antagonize him, because he was the same elf now, the only thing that had changed was that he had gained more understanding.

For Legolas was an elf one needed to understand something about before one could just make allowances for the quirks and habits that he had. Once this level of understanding had been reached it was clear to see that Legolas was haunted, weary, and slightly destroyed by everything that he had been through. Because Legolas had been through a lot that much was clear to him even though he himself only knew bits and pieces of it.

While Gimli cooked their dinner, he watched as Legolas swam agilely around in the clear blue-green pool. The elf dived, pivoted, and glided like a seal through the waters, effortlessly and gracefully circling around the stone columns that rose through the waters. His silvery-white hair shone as much as the gemstones above him and his sapphire eyes shone with wonder.

His experiences with Legolas had taught him about one of the flaws of the dwarven race: the capacity to hold grudges and let them build through the centuries until they blew out of proportions. It was something that he had to be more wary of in the future…

"Legolas!" Gimli shouted, beginning to serve the stew he had made into two bowls. Éomer had made sure that they had gotten a lot of provisions before they had set out so the stew was rich with both meat and vegetables.

Legolas jerked his attention back to his friend and smiled sheepishly before swimming effortlessly back to the edge of the underground lake. When he climbed out, he spent a few moments wringing access water from his hair, but otherwise he just pulled on his clothes in spite of how wet he was. It didn't even startle Gimli anymore, because he had seen him do it so many times.

The moment Legolas was dressed, however, his eyes clouded somewhat and became slightly dazed. Instead of moving towards the camp, he crouched beside the pool once more and let his fingers glide through the blue-green water. It seemed almost as though he was caressing a lover…

"Laddie!" Gimli snapped.

Immediately, Legolas jerked out of his trance and wrenched his hand away from the water, staring at it wide-eyed. Gimli watched worriedly as the elf's shoulders rose and fell with short, sharp breaths as he struggled to pull himself away from whatever had caught onto him. Then, abruptly, he sprung up and moved to the camp, sitting down beside Gimli without looking back once.

Gimli was silent for a while, waiting for an explanation. When Legolas didn't say anything he asked, "What was that?"

Legolas looked him straight in the eyes without blinking or showing any emotion. "I don't know," he answered.

"Yes, you do," Gimli countered but didn't demand a reply. He handed Legolas his bowl of stew. Determined to remove the troubled expression from Legolas' face, he asked, "So what more can you tell me about those grandchildren of yours?"

Immediately, a light shone inside Legolas' sapphire blue eyes and for a moment it seemed as though they lighted to a different shade. The effect was immediate and Gimli found a smile pulling at his own lips as he listened to Legolas chatter eagerly about Caladel and Naruvir.

His father, Gloin, would probably disown him and through him into the streets if he knew just how much compassion, fondness, and concern he had for his elven friend…

They talked throughout the evening, but then lapped into companionable silence. Legolas sat for a while leaning against the wall of the cave, caressing the ring around his neck while gazing absentmindedly at an amber colored gemstone in the wall.

As the ring caught the light of the fire, Gimli was able to see the flower with petals of amber and a sapphire as the center. The ring itself was made of two thin, interwoven bands of silver, simple and elegant.

"Is it your wife's?" Gimli asked softly.

Legolas' eyes focused once more and he gazed upon him, taken aback.

"The ring," Gimli specified, "Is it your wife's?"

Legolas eyes softened then and he looked down upon it. "Aye," he answered. "It was." Exhaling slowly and closing his eyes, Legolas reached up to undo the chain holding it around his neck. He then handed the ring to Gimli so he could study it.

Gimli took the ring reverently in his hands, knowing the value it held to his friend. The ring seemed almost sacred; especially knowing that it had belonged to someone whom his friend had loved more than anything.

"What happened to her, Laddie?" Gimli asked softly as he handed it back.

When Legolas was silent for a while, Gimli assured him, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Legolas shook his head without removing his eyes from the ring in his hands. "She faded… believing that I was dead," he whispered.

Gimli's brown eyes sharpened at that.

While leaning back against the wall of the cave, Legolas moved his gaze to the amber stone imbedded inside it. "You remember what I told you about the time when your father came to our Halls? That Mirkwood were under siege?"

"Aye," Gimli answered.

"I managed to get her out of the Halls… Her, my daughter, and my sister."

 _His icy blue eyes drowned in Faneth's amber ones and she nodded shortly before grabbing hold of Maliel's arm to keep her in place._

 _The tearful protesting coming from his daughter didn't reach his ears as he continued to stay locked in Faneth's eyes for what seemed like an hour but could only have been a couple of seconds. He reached out and placed his hand on his wife's stomach, sending some of his blue strength inside her and the life she carried._

 _Then he shut the door firmly and locked it, ignoring the way Maliel was pounding against it and begging._

"I had made sure that they could get away from the halls and that a friend of mine would take them to Rivendell…" Legolas continued softly, "It would have worked perfectly only… she was pregnant… Elves, they have to give a lot of energy to their child to nurture it, and I wasn't by her side to help her. They rode hard on their way to find help, not being allowed to stop because of the enemies on their trail. The sheer physical strain of riding at that speed, coupled with the stress of everything that was happening, as well as the worry for me and the lack of rest… It was too much… We… we lost the baby…"

Legolas felt a stab of pain go through his heart and had to take a deeper breath to suppress the emotions that threatened to undo him.

"…You have to understand," he said, his voice slightly hoarse, "to an elf losing a baby… losing a child, a life… is just about the worst thing you can be subjected to… Having such long lives means that there are so few children… especially in Mirkwood. Therefore, we cherish elflings without compare…

"Faneth, she… She thought that losing our baby had been her fault. Even before I left to fight Sauron, she was already weakened and struggling to cope with everything…"

 _Faneth's hand travelled to her mouth but she soon lost the struggle to hold back her tears and she fell to her knees. Legolas immediately ran past Galadriel and over to her. He gathered her in his arms and she grabbed onto his tunic, crying heartbreakingly into his shoulder. Hearing such a sound from someone he loved so much almost made it impossible for him to breathe._

" _I'm sorry." Faneth sobbed into his shoulder, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."_

 _Legolas was aware that the whole courtyard had gone silent around them but he didn't care, he didn't care about anything other than the person in his arms right now. Faneth kept apologizing to him through her heartbroken sobs so he forcibly opened the bond that they shared and their memories and minds flowed together. The truth hit him like a slap in the face and tears welled up inside his eyes._

 _Their baby…_

"I promised her that I would be back before two months had gone by… I knew that if she had a time to hold on to, then it would be easier for her to hang on…"

" _Two months… No matter what you hear, no matter who gives up on me, you're not allowed to do so before two months have passed." Tears welled up in her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. "I have survived against all odds before, give me time to do so again this time. Promise me that you'll wait for me."_

 _He desperately gripped Faneth's arm and shook her softly when she didn't answer him._

"… _I promise…" She choked out, her golden eyes glistening with tears as she looked into his. "I promise…"_

"I fought against Sauron… and some would even say that I won," Legolas whispered, "I drove him out of the forest but it wasn't without consequences… I would have made it back to her… but I was so wounded, so weakened… By the time I had dragged myself back five months had passed… and she…"

" _Faneth… she… she held on to hope for so long. She made it through the two months that you had made her promise to wait… and she made it through the third… but they couldn't find you… Every day felt as long a life age for her…" Legolas was shaking his head frantically, his breathing speeding up. "She held on for so long… so long Legolas… but at the end there was nothing we could do… I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry Legolas."_

 _His father was sobbing earnestly now, but Legolas just sat there his eyes widened, shaking his head in denial._

" _No…" he moaned, his breathing coming in short gasps. He then pushed his father away roughly and leapt to his feet before tearing off towards the Halls. Kirion tried to reach out towards him in the doorway but he evaded him hand and bolted through the long corridors, his mind in panic._

 _No, no, no, no, no, no, no… It wasn't true… It wasn't… She was still there… She was waiting for him… He had told her to wait for him… He had told her to trust him…_

 _Legolas burst through the door to their sitting room, breathing so quickly that he was hyperventilating. The room was completely empty and completely cold. Without wasting a moment, Legolas tore through the room and yanked open the door to the bathroom, finding it in the same state. He barely registered as his father and brother came running into the sitting room, as he ran over to the door to the bedroom and tore it open._

 _It was empty._

 _The world around him seemed to crash and splinter, and he collapsed to his knees, frantically shaking his head, his hands travelling up to clutch his hair painfully. His breathing sounded like nothing more than a shallow whistling and his blue eyes were completely wide open._

"I'm sorry, Legolas," Gimli said, his voice soft even in its gruffness.

Drawn from his thoughts and his ever-present grief, Legolas blinked rapidly to remove the liquid that blurred his sight of the amber stone in the wall. As much as the familiar color of the stone and the ring that he held in his hand made him feel connected to Faneth, they also cut through him without mercy. Closing his eyes, Legolas tightened his fist around the necklace with the ring.

It had been almost eighty years since Faneth had passed away from the world. The years that should have been merely a blink of an eye for elf seemed to have lasted more than a lifetime and it seemed as if the hole in his heart only kept on growing. It seemed to him that in the moment he finally chose to sail, there would be nothing left of him but an outer shell, pretending that everything's all right…

"It's not your fault," Legolas said softly as he opened his eyes and turned to Gimli once more. In the beginning of the quest, the dwarf would have held victory and grim satisfaction in his eyes, but now he smiled gently at the sadness he saw in their brown depths. "You are a good friend, Gimli."

"And you're privileged to have me," Gimli said, releasing a rumbling laugh. "Who knew that in only a short year I would lower myself to becoming 'a good friend' to an elf."

Legolas' smile grew at that and he shook his head in resignation. Gimli continued to laugh merrily, though. Taking a deep breath, Legolas forcibly pushed his pain and grief behind a wall inside his mind.

"Is it not about time that you find your own wife?" Legolas asked with a grin, "You are beginning turn grey, my friend."

"Baw! I have no need for womenfolk!" Gimli exclaimed, "I have plenty of tender love and care in the blades of my axes. Besides, there are so few female dwarves that fighting for one when you're not truly interested is considered offensive."

"Is it really true that you fight for your women?" Legolas asked amused, relaxing against the wall of the cavern.

"Aye, Laddie," Gimli grinned. "Every year a contest is held were we menfolk can show our prowess and strength, and thereby woo our females. Of course the females can choose for themselves whom to marry, but they have been known for picking the best fighters. There was once a dwarven woman named Rûth, who said that she would marry the dwarf who could defeat her in unarmed combat."

"She sounds willful," Legolas said with a smile on his lips.

"Of course!" Gimli replied, "She was rumored to have been the most stubborn dwarf of all times. She tirelessly defeated every single dwarf who tried to win her favor, dwarves that had came from all corners of the dwarven kingdom. When at last no more were left to challenge her, she turned to the leader of our clan, my great-grandfather, and demanded that he take her for wife since if no one were strong enough physically then the least she could get was the dwarf who held most power."

Legolas chuckled. "Did he say yes?"

"He laughed so deeply that the ground shook and called for ale and meat to celebrate their joining. Then he went to her and bowed to her, before talking her hand and guiding her up to the seat beside his throne. From then on she was queen by his side and their union proved to be the strongest in dwarven history," Gimli said and laughed deeply.

Legolas joined in his laughter and spent the rest of the evening listening to such stories in the dying light of the fire. By the time embers were all that were left, they had fallen into a comfortable silence. Gimli studied Legolas, as the elf's eyes once more locked upon the amber colored stone embedded in the wall, seemingly lost in memories.

From the amber petals of the flower that embellished the ring that had belonged to Legolas' wife, Gimli made the connection between the amber color of the stone and Legolas' memories of his wife. Therefore, even as he looked at how Legolas gazed at the stone, he felt that the stone somehow belonged to his friend.

Because of this, Gimli pretended to go to sleep when they laid down for the night and waited until he could hear Legolas' almost silent breaths deepen before rising once more. He found a chisel and a small hammer from his pack and moved over to the wall. When Legolas woke after the first strike, Gimli threatened and coerced him to go back to sleep and ignore all noise that sounded from that moment till morning.

Gimli toiled and labored over the stone for the best part of the night. When he deemed his work finished a couple of hours before dawn, he placed the stone beside Legolas and laid down on his bedroll before beginning to snore loudly.

The moment that the sounds of Gimli's snores echoed through the cavern, Legolas' sapphire blue eyes regained their focus and he smiled at the sight of his deeply sleeping friend. Soon though, his gaze landed upon the amber stone that lay beside him.

The stone had been rounded and reduced until it was in the shape of a round disc. A hole had been carved through the stone and lines were etched from the hole around to the other side of the disc in a spiral-like pattern.

Warmth flooded Legolas at the sight of the stone and he reached out to lift the stone carefully from the floor. He studied it more closely, seeing the effort his friend had put into the stone despite the fact that he more than likely hadn't had a lot of tools at his disposal. Afterwards, he unlocked his necklace and slid the stone onto the chain so it hung beside Faneth's engagement ring.


	3. Elves and trees

**Chapter three – Elves and trees**

Gimli grumbled to himself and clutched his axe tighter, looking around anxiously in face of the old trees that surrounded him. One hour inside Fangorn and he still hadn't gotten used to the gnarly and ancient trees that loomed over him, rather he felt that they were slowly trying to suffocate the poor dwarf in their midst.

As he transferred his gaze to Legolas, he stewed inwardly. Legolas was the most relaxed that he had ever seen him, more free and joyful. Of course a shadow still hung over him, but it seemed to have lost power slightly within the old forest. At the moment, Legolas was travelling through the trees above the path, leaping and stepping from branch to branch with as must ease as a squirrel.

"Oi Elf!" Gimli called out, and raised his axe towards Legolas. "Why don't you use your squirrel wings to fly down and entertain your forsaken friend?" The trees around him immediately started groaned and moaning, twitching and creaking alarmingly. Gimli tightened his grip around the weapon.

A chuckle sounded from above him and in a streak of blue and silver, Legolas landed soundlessly before him, barely disturbing the dust of the path. His elven friend placed his slender hands on top of the ones he had clutching the axe and pointedly took it out of his hands, placing it in the holster on his back.

"I don't know who is the most dissatisfied," Legolas smiled, "the trees by your presence, or you by theirs. I should think that after following you into a cave, you would be more inclined to make an attempt at my forest."

"I am here, aren't I?" Gimli asked, his eyes flickering around nervously and his hands longing to grip his weapon once more.

"Mmhmm," Legolas hummed skeptically, raising an amused eyebrow.

"Ai! Come on, Laddie!" Gimli cried indignantly, "You saw what these trees were capable of after the battle for Helms Deep! I shall be lucky if I leave this forest without my limbs having been squashed to jelly!"

The trees protested once more, but Legolas only chuckled at his exclamation. Before Gimli had a chance to react, Legolas swooped in and grabbed the dwarf around the waist, throwing him over his shoulder. Immediately, Gimli began raging and shouting at Legolas in protest but nothing he did made Legolas let go of him as he raced to one of the nearest trees and began climbing it.

When he reached the top of the tree, Legolas set Gimli down upon the branch looked into his face, which had turned purple with rage.

"You better praise yourself lucky I hold some tiny speck of fondness for you, you misbegotten creature!" Gimli growled, "That stunt you just pulled would have caused yourself a century of pain otherwise! By Dúrin's hammer, I will not tolerate being treated like some kind of animal! You never _ever_ handle a dwarf like that! I will haunt you in… your…"

In the middle of Gimli's rampage, which seemed like it could go on for a while, Legolas had taken hold of the dwarf's chin and turned his head. The view immediately halted Gimli tirade. The tall tree stood upon the edge of a hill that overlooked a large clearing. Because of this, everywhere in sight was a see of green and yellow, orange and red. The myriad of colors that painted the leaves of the crowns of the trees of Fangorn in all of their glory.

Above all of this the setting sun shone upon the faraway horizon, coloring the sky pink and red. Blue birds flew around from canopy to canopy, finding food and otherwise basking in the warn light of the sun as they flew freely back to their nests, singing without restraint.

"These may not be caves, Master Dwarf," Legolas whispered, "but in my opinion the forest hides its own wonders if only one dares to venture out and find them. There are no rocks, no gemstones, nor diamonds, but the light of the sun far surpasses any objects that try to mimic it. The trees themselves are oceans upon oceans of memory and thought, preserved through thousands of years and continuing to spread towards Anor's glory. They are, as you say, fierce and strong but mostly to guard the lives of those who dwell in their boughs."

Gimli gazed upon Legolas and saw how the elf's sapphire blue eyes shone with the fire-like light of the setting sun as he gazed over the view. A small smile played on his lips and the lines on his face had smoothed out completely, somehow making him look like nothing more than an adolescence.

Legolas turned his gaze from the sun and looked at Gimli. "Just like you showed me in the caves, I would like to show you what life I sense from all around us."

"I would like that," Gimli replied calmly, his anger forgotten.

"I do have to warn you that it may be slightly overwhelming to you, but I'll try to suppress it as much as I can."

"Bah! You should have more faith in the sturdiness of dwarves," Gimli protested. Legolas only smiled and placed his hand upon Gimli's forehead, both of them closing their eyes.

At first Gimli only felt his friend's consciousness brush lightly up against his in a non-threatening kind of way, but as soon as he had relaxed completely in the face of this presence, overwhelming light had flooded into his mind. With the light and thousand impressions, thoughts, and feelings surged into his mind like he was standing underneath a high waterfall and allowing the wall of water to fall straight into his mind.

Sounds he before hadn't been able to hear suddenly burst into his mind. He could hear what seemed to be the distant muttering and deep humming of trees and plants and animals. He could feel as the very wind swept over the sea of grass underneath them and made the blades bow and quiver in defeat.

More brilliant than this, though, was how everything around him seemed to have changed. In every direction vibrant melodies and songs seemed to cling through the forest and melt with the clear buzzing of insects. The world seemed to be filled with colors, surrounding every object and life, showing life forces so strong and ancient that they took his breath away. Within these life forces and auras there were deep wells of memories and thoughts shimmering just underneath the surface.

Greatest of all was the power that he perceived in the being sitting beside him. Legolas was like a beacon of brilliant white light in the midst of all the enchanting colors. The trees' life forces were green, the birds' were blue, the squirrels' were red; everything had a color. But Legolas… Legolas was a silvery-white that seemed to hold all colors in one so finely attuned to nature was he. His life was like a sun compared to all the flames around him.

As Gimli dug deeper, though, he was able to see cracks in the light, remnants of the shadow and darkness that had pierced him throughout his long life. Gimli could see just how damaged his friend had been, was able to see that despite the fact that he acted in control and calm, there were only a few strings holding him together. He could see the deep grief inside his heart…

Abruptly, the connection between them was severed completely and Gimli was left feeling bereft, as if he had just lost something irreplaceable. Gimli gasped and clutched his chest in shock at the torrent that had just rushed through him. It seemed like he had aged a year, but from the position of the sun he could see that he couldn't have been under for more than a few minutes.

When he felt like he had a grasp of his own emotions, Gimli turned to Legolas, intending to ask something, only to freeze when he saw the shadow that had fallen over his friend's features. At that moment, he understood what he had done. He had taken advantage of the trust Legolas had shown him by opening up to him and allowing him to feel what he felt… He had used the connection between them, not to explore the nature around them, but to dig into Legolas' own spirit. As a result, he had seen things that he reckoned Legolas wouldn't even allow those closest to his heart to witness. All of this, he had done without permission…

"I apologize," Gimli said brusquely. "That was wrong of me to do."

Legolas shook his head minutely and replied, "It wasn't your fault." Despite this, though, Gimli could see that the shutter had fallen down inside Legolas' eyes, hiding his emotions behind glass walls.

Without having a way to control it, Gimli found himself recalling a memory from Lothlorien.

 _The sound of voices made Gimli stop his wanderings through the silver woods of Lothlorien. There was something about the voices that set them aside from all the others he had heard: they were speaking in the common tongue._

" _How have you been, Thranduilion?"_

 _Gimli had planned to turn aside and walk along, but he froze when he heard who was talking as well as the name mentioned. This was a conversation between the Lady Galadriel and Legolas… Without conscious thought, Gimli began moving towards where the voice had come from. He stopped when the trees began to thin around him and was able to catch a glimpse of Legolas and Lady Galadriel as they stood in a clearing further ahead, beside a gurgling stream._

" _I have been recovering… slowly…" Legolas answered softly, his gaze resting impassively on the water in the stream. "Alfirin has had to put up with a lot, but I wouldn't have made it through it without him."_

" _He did seem like an interesting character," Galadriel said. Gimli felt amazement well up inside his chest because of the smile that spread out upon the Lady's lips. Suddenly, though, it seemed like her visage darkened. "I must beg your forgiveness, Legolas," she said, "The consequences you have had to face because of my decision were more devastating than I could have imagined. Even now I can feel the wounds you have been dealt because of my superciliousness."_

" _It wasn't your fault," Legolas replied in a distant voice. "You did what you thought best. I was the one who agreed to it, damn the consequences. There is no need for you to feel blame for something that was taken on freely by me."_

" _It was not taken on freely," Lady Galadriel said. Her voice was as melodious and calm as the water that flowed beside her. "Looking back has shown me that we made you feel like there was no other path to take."_

" _It was the only path to take." Legolas tilted his head towards the sky and closed his eyes as the rays of the sun danced over his eyelids. "He almost killed me. Despite the support from you three and my own power, he still almost killed me. There were plenty of times throughout the battle where he could have taken what you were chosen to protect if you had been the ones to face him. The only reason he didn't kill me immediately was because he already knew me and was interested in me…"_

" _Despite this, that burden should not have rested upon your shoulders alone."_

" _To only have to sacrifice one person in order to drive Sauron from the forest is not a small achievement," Legolas replied apathetically, as if it wasn't himself he was talking about._

 _Gimli's eyes widened as then name 'Sauron' rung through the forest. Chills immediately raced down his spine and he stared at the elven member of the fellowship in disbelief. Legolas was implying that at one point he had driven Sauron out of Mirkwood …alone. When Galadriel didn't deny Legolas' claim, Gimli knew that it had to be the truth._

 _Contrary to his own wishes, respect for Legolas welled up inside Gimli and he found himself gazing upon the elf with new eyes. The elf that he had thought arrogant and boasting had never mentioned doing something like this… had never drawn attention to the fact that he had once faced down such a mighty opponent… Not even when he had had to listen to his dwarven companion demeaning him…_

 _He was shaken from his thoughts when Galadriel began speaking._

" _The way that I see it there was not one victim in this battle but a whole family. I have come to realize that no matter what I say you will never be able to realize the blame that I hold for what happened," Galadriel said in a soft voice, "The anger and blame inside your heart is directed so thoroughly towards yourself that you have room for no more."_

" _Daro!" Legolas suddenly snapped in elvish, stiffening and turning his back to Lady Galadriel. After a moment, he said some more in a forcibly calm voice, but because it was elvish Gimli had no chance of understanding it._

" _It is true, though. Is it not, Legolas?" Galadriel asked softly. She walked over to Legolas, her white dress flowing over the green grass. She placed her hand upon Legolas' chin and turned his head so they one more gazed at each other. For the first time Gimli could see the deep lines of fatigue in Legolas' face and see the pain deep inside his sapphire blue eyes._

" _You do not hide your heart and your mind as thoroughly as you once did, Laiqualassë…" Galadriel whispered melodically, her starlit eyes gazing directly into Legolas'. "Your strength is beginning to wane as the wounds inside your heart continue to fester. Although I do not doubt the value you hold to the fellowship, I begin to wonder where you find your strength to keep going…"_

 _Gimli heard the sigh that left Legolas' lips and watched as he closed his eyes, allowing the Lady of Light to cup his chin. "Moria carnë núra i-mordo mi órenya… Tiutasa ni pata nún i-laurëaldar o Lothlórien," Legolas breathed._

 _For the first time Gimli did not feel anger when he heard the elvish words from Legolas. They seemed to roll of the elf's tongue like a gentle song carried by the breeze. Although he could not understand what was said, Gimli felt peace fill him at the sound as well as the nature surrounding him._

" _I am glad," Galadriel answered softly. She leaned forwards and pressed a kiss against Legolas' forehead. "May you find the peace you seek in your short stay here, child of the stars."_

 _The Lady bowed her heard to Legolas and Gimli watched as Legolas returned the farewell by placing his fist against his heart and bowing his head before sweeping his hand outwards effortlessly. A final smile appeared on the Lady's lips before she walked away and further into the forest._

 _Gimli stood watching Legolas as the elf made no move from his final position. For what seemed like an age he contemplated showing himself and for the first time taking the time to speak civilized with the elf._

 _While he was still contemplating this, though, Legolas shifted and turned his head. Before Gimli could make a move he suddenly found his eyes locked in Legolas' sapphire ones. The elf looked neither angry nor chocked at his presence, but smiled thinly and said, "Come, Gimli."_

 _Gimli stepped out from the trees and walked into the clearing where Legolas stood. "How long have you known I was there?" he asked._

 _Legolas chuckled and answered, "I regret to say that Elven hearing is very good, so we could hear you nearing our position, which is probably the reason Lady Galadriel switched to the Common tongue."_

" _Ah…" Gimli replied somewhat awkwardly, since this was his first attempt at a conversation with the elf without shouting insults. "Despite the fact that you tried to change language several times."_

 _Legolas smiled at that, "Apparently she wanted you to hear, what I didn't want to give. I shall not presume to know the wisdom and insight that she carries."_

 _At first glance, it seemed like Legolas didn't even notice anything had changed between them, like they had held conversations like they were now throughout the journey. On second glance, though, he could see a glint of wariness in his sapphire eyes._

 _Gimli cleared his throat as he grabbled after what he was supposed to say in response. After a while he settled for brusquely asking, "Is it true? That you've fought Sauron? Alone?"_

" _Yes," Legolas answered shortly._

" _When?" Gimli prodded, feeling a twinge of annoyance but suppressing it._

 _Legolas was gazing at him seriously and as Gimli locked eyes with him he felt as though Legolas was looking straight through him, reading all his thoughts and feelings. The world around him seemed to shrink until it only consisted of those intense eyes. Then it was over. Legolas blinked and it was like nothing had ever happened._

" _I happened just prior to the Battle of Five Armies," Legolas answered Gimli. "The attacks on Mirkwood during that time began far sooner than when your father and his kinsmen arrived in the forest."_

 _Gimli snorted at that and said haughtily, "No matter what, your actions at that time were inexcusable so don't try to condone what you did. We were all fighting so don't even being to think that you had it worse than the rest of us."_

 _Legolas sighed at that and turned his gaze to the brook. "I suppose my father never did explain his actions and I don't doubt that even if he had you still wouldn't have forgiven him," he said._

 _Legolas then looked him into the eyes once more before saying, "The reason my father did what he did was because while your father and his kinsmen were having an audience with him someone was holding a knife to his son's, my brother's, throat just behind the throne."_

 _And so Legolas had told him everything. He told him what had happened prior to and after the meeting between of the King under the mountain and the Elvenking. Although sometimes the events seemed too horrid to be true, there was no lie in Legolas' eyes and voice. Contrary to that, he seemed weary and distant as he retold the story, almost like he was experiencing everything once more._

 _As he listened, Gimli slowly felt his anger and indignation diminishing. Legolas' tale didn't answer for every event that had led to the quarrel between elves and dwarves, but it was a beginning and it set all other incidents in doubt. The two of them spoke quietly under the trees until the silver light of the moon and stars was reflected in the stream beside them._

 _Both were unaware at the moment that that conversation would create the base for the first friendship between dwarf and elf that had been in a long time._

When Gimli looked upon his friend now he was reminded by what Galadriel had said about his condition. After seeing what he had just seen, he was just as much confused as the lady had been as to how Legolas had been able to carry on throughout the war of the ring.

"I do not want you to worry."

Gimli blinked and returned from his thoughts. Legolas hadn't looked at him but there was no doubt that he was the one who had spoken. He couldn't read what the elf was thinking but he could see exhaustion in his pose, an exhaustion that hadn't been so visible since they had arrived in the forest.

"Did you know?" Gimli asked.

"Of course," Legolas answered distantly, lifting his hand and clenching his shirt just over his heart. "It's my body. …I am stronger than I look, however, I'll be all right."

"Even strength has its limits." Gimli muttered.

Legolas didn't answer.

"Do all elves see and feel what you do?" Gimli asked after a moment of silence, changing the subject.

A small smile lifted the corners of Legolas' lips and he answered, "I see more than most, but all elves are connected to the nature around us, just as dwarves can hear the stone."

"I believe I prefer the steady thrumming of the stone compared to the soaring and spiraling chaos of impressions, feelings, and energy," Gimli said gruffly. "Perhaps therein lie the differences between elves and dwarves. Dwarves seem to like having their feet firmly planted on the ground, under it if possible, while elves soar through the trees like squirrels."

Legolas chuckled at that. "It also seems as if there is a slight difference in the memories of our kinds. Dwarves tend to bear grudges based on half-way forgotten and slightly distorted memories, while elves remember every day of their life from the time they were able to think straight just as clearly as had they happened yesterday. That way, unlike humans and dwarves, our memories do not fade and neither do the emotions and feelings connected to them."

O

"What do you intend to do now?" Gimli asked as they stood at the crossroad between the Elf-path and the forest river, just south of the Elvenking's halls.

They had made the trip together from Fangorn to what was now called Eryn Lasgalen, but now their paths would lead them in two different directions. The Elvenking's halls and the Lonely Mountain where Gimli would visit his clan before relocating to the Glittering Caves with those of his kin who were willing to go on such a journey.

The trip through Eryn Lasgalen had been difficult for Legolas. Almost a quarter of the forest now consisted of black, charred trees because of the fire that had burned the forest in the battle he had not been home for. Now more than ever, he had realized that he could not stay in the forest…

He had given his whole life to defend it, and now that it was free he couldn't settle inside it …he couldn't find the peace inside himself. Even being under the trees made his heart race inside his chest and every croak or snap in the forest made him jerk. Grief once more settled heavily inside his heart and every step towards his father's kingdom sent waves of panic and stress through his already overwrought body.

He couldn't go back there. There was no peace for him.

"Aragorn talked to me on the eve of his coronation," Legolas said, "he offered me land in Ithilien in exchange for my services of clearing and restoring the woods there. With my King's permission I will start an elven colony there, if some are willing to follow my leadership and leave their homes."

"I'm sure they will be, Laddie," Gimli said, placing his hand upon Legolas' arm. "I'm sure they will be…"

"As I'm sure your people will follow you, my friend," Legolas smiled. "In a year I will come to the caves once more and I will expect that you have turned them into something even grander than they are."

"And I will see Ithilien as well, expecting that you've made the trees as least somewhat habitable," Gimli responded, holding out his hand.

Legolas took Gimli's hand in his and gave it a firm shake before pulling the dwarf towards him and into a hug. Gimli protested loudly, but Legolas only chuckled. As he moved back, Legolas pressed a kiss against his friend's forehead.

"Go with my blessing, Gimli son of Gloin. May your journey be swift and pleasant, and may you find peace in your new home."

And so they parted ways, each with their own mission. Legolas journey northwards into his father's realm, using ropes to cross over the Forest River. Merely an hour passed before he stood before the open gates.

Already at that moment, the noise from inside the gates made his pulse speed up and his palms become sweaty. His body seemed ready for either fight or flight, but he just barely kept his dread from showing on his face.

"My Prince?" one of the guards at the gate questioned him.

Legolas looked at the guard and nodded in greeting, clenching his hands to keep them from trembling, and walked through the gates and into the courtyard. It was brimming with elves and multitudes of tents had been set up on the green areas for the elves that had fled to the Halls after their homes had been destroyed in the battle.

As he entered the courtyard, most of the chatter stopped and eyes turned towards him. Legolas felt his heart speed up even more but the elves around him only placed their hands upon their hearts and bowed as he passed. He nodded back to them, breathing deeply and forcing himself to keep walking.

He didn't know why his body was reacting the way it was… but every step towards his old home made him want to run screaming in the other direction. A dull ringing had started in his ears and he could feel a headache beginning to press against his skull.

It was then that memories began taking the place of the crowd and the tents, flashes of destruction and pain. He saw patrols and armies leaving for war. Panic. Elves screaming, loved ones wailing in loss and grief. He smelt ashes and fires and blood in the air. He could see himself standing the midst of the ruin being beaten down until he was lying defenseless on the cold, unforgiving ground, unable to stand up for the weight of pain and terror that rested upon his back.

Abruptly, he slammed back into the present. Cold sweat had broken out upon his skin.

He couldn't stay there…

The forest of Eryn Lasgalen could no longer be his home…

There were too many memories…

When Legolas neared the entrance to the cave, he looked up and saw his father and his little brother standing upon the steps. His remaining family except Maliel and his grandsons…

In the past, his father had never been completely open with his affections for his firstborn when standing before the majority of his people, but now Thranduil walked down the steps and wrapped his arms tightly around Legolas. Legolas blinked before melting into the embrace, closing his eyes and leaning against his father's broad form, feeling his heartbeat slow slightly.

Even so, his pulse was still racing and it wasn't long before Thranduil placed his hand against his son's heart, anxiously feeling how it raced inside his chest. Frowning inwardly, the King drew back and placed his fingers under his son's chin, lifting Legolas' head so he could look him in the eyes. Legolas apparently saw the question in his eyes, because he gave a small smile, not that that did anything to reassure Thranduil.

"Welcome home," Thranduil said softly. "…Come inside, Legolas."

Thranduil gently steered Legolas towards the doors where Kirion was also watching his brother worriedly. At Thranduil's gesture, Kirion walked ahead of them and led them to Thranduil's sitting room.

Once inside the relative safety of the room, Legolas felt himself begin to relax slightly, some of the fog disappearing from his mind and the ringing in his ears dissipating. Thranduil also felt Legolas' shoulders lower from their tense position slightly, and he saddened at learning the reason for Legolas' distress.

"You're safe here, Tuilin." Thranduil said softly, pressing a kiss against Legolas' forehead and leading him over to the couch. [Swallow (bird)]

Legolas gazed wide-eyed at his father as he used the nickname his mother had called him sometimes when he had been an elfling, allowing himself to be pressed onto the couch. Thranduil effectively divested Legolas of his weapons and outerwear.

"Hey Legolas."

Legolas moved his eyes from his father and gazed down upon his little brother, who had knelt before him. Kirion's emerald eyes shone with worry, but there was a small smile upon his lips. Kirion had changed in the years since he had last seen him, there was more worry in his eyes and his shoulders seemed slightly stooped, as if they had been bearing a heavy burden.

Reaching forward, Legolas placed his hands against his brother's cheeks, studying him intently. Kirion flinched slightly at his touch, but didn't move away.

"Your hands are cold," he breathed.

"Sorry," Legolas said absentmindedly, still gazing upon his brother. "Are you all right? You seem tired."

Kirion snorted suddenly, letting out a laugh. "You're unbelievable, you know that?" he asked, moved forward and wrapping his arms around Legolas in a hug. "You come to our doorstep strained, cold, and with eyes the color of midnight, and the first thing you do is ask if I'm all right? I know that you're the elder brother Legolas, but there are limits."

Legolas chuckled at that and wrapped his arms around Kirion in return. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really, you moron," Kirion replied, slapping the back of Legolas' head as he pulled back from the embrace.

"Come now, Boys," Thranduil started, "I've told Bronwe to-"

At that moment, a sharp knock sounded on the door before it opened. Legolas' snapped his head in that direction the moment the sound cut through the room, his eyes wide and his heart rate speeding up once more. Every nerve inside his body screamed for him to move and he was halfway up from the couch on his way towards the other end of the room, before his brother and father's hands flew to his shoulders and pressed him into the couch once more.

Bronwe backed into the room, pushing the door open that way because of the large tray with mugs, a pot of hot water, and a mixture of tealeaves in his hands. Legolas' breath caught in his throat, and he forced himself to stay seated, despite the momentary panic that had gripped his body. His heart was still galloping inside his chest and he found himself watching his father's butler alertly.

Bronwe stopped for a brief second, watching the scene in front of him before giving Legolas an apologetic smile and setting the tray on the table before the couch. Without a word, Bronwe looked toward his King, and when he was dismissed with a silent gesture, he bowed and left the room respectfully.

Legolas released a shaking breath before leaning forward and placing his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes and temples. His hands were trembling once more. "Damn it…" he cursed softly.

Thranduil kneeled down beside Legolas and wrapped his arms securely around him. Legolas didn't move and nor did he react when his father spoke softly to Kirion, "Go and get Ecphen…"

Kirion nodded and silently left the room, throwing a worried glance at his elder brother.

"No more fighting, Legolas…" Thranduil whispered softly, tightening his arms around his eldest son and pressing his face against his shoulder. "You never have to fight again… Finally… Finally there is peace."

A shudder travelled through his son at those words and he seemed to collapse slightly in on himself, sniffling lightly.

"Did you hear me?" Thranduil said softly. He drew back from the hug and took Legolas' calloused hands in his, pulling them away so they weren't shielding his face. Sadness flooded his heart when he saw the defeated look in Legolas' eyes, and he tried to rub some warmth into the rough surfaces of the hands he held. "We can live in peace now…"

Legolas squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face slightly away from his father's searching gaze. "Yes…" he whispered, "finally there is peace… There is peace for the families who have sent daughters and sons out to war only to have them return without life… There is peace for the children of the next generation who will not have to grow up in fear… There is peace for those who have not lost themselves along the way, those who have scars and sorrows that can be healed in time…"

Legolas opened his eyes and turned his head so he once more locked gazes with his father. He could see the pain and the fear in those eyes, just as he could see his own reflection. "There is peace for them… but there is no peace for me. Not anymore…"

Legolas brought his father's hands up to his mouth and pressed a kiss against them before resting his forehead against their joint hands. "Ada, I have hurts the will not heal, scars that will not fade, grief that will not diminish… I do not regret what I have done, or what has been achieved. I am proud of this peace. I am proud of our home."

"But you cannot stay here…" Thranduil whispered.

Legolas' hands tightened around his father's. "I cannot stay here…" Legolas echoed hollowly. "There are too many memories… too much pain, too much grief…"

The words hung in the air for some time before Thranduil swallowed around the lump in his throat and choked, "I once told you that I understood if you wanted to sail, if you needed to. I once told you that I would neither blame nor be angry with you because more than anyone I know what you've sacrificed for the sake of this realm. More than anyone, I have seen you beaten down and broken in the chains of your duty and position, and I have known the burdens you have had to bear… You are my son."

"…I will not sail," Legolas said in a whisper. "I want to be here to watch my grandchildren grow up, watch my daughter become a mother… I want to see the lands restored and my friend sitting upon the throne of Gondor…"

Thranduil felt his fear melt into relief at those words. "Where will you go then?"

Legolas took a deep breath and straightened up slightly so he could once more look at his father. "Aragorn asked me to help him heal the forests of Ithilien, to make an elven colony and see to it that the trees are restored to their former glory, before the shadow of Mordor fell over them. I have seen Ithilien and walked under its trees, and I want to help them…"

"You do not need to work anymore for the peace of Middle Earth, Legolas," Thranduil responded. "You have done more than enough. No one would begrudge you if you settled in Rivendell with Maliel. There you could-"

"I need to have a purpose…" Legolas interrupted, his eyes pained. "I need to have something to do or I will drown in my thoughts and memories… I cannot place that burden upon, Maliel… I cannot place myself beside her knowing that I will slowly fade away…"

Thranduil's eyes glistened at this admission, pain tearing through his heart. "Then go to Ithilien, Legolas. I know that the trees will find no better caretaker and that you will be able to make the lands as bewitching as they have once been. I will help you make all the arrangements and tell the people, so that they can follow you if they, too, have memories that keep them from settling in the forest once more. But I want you to rest for now, regain some of your strength…"

At that moment, an almost silent knock sounded on the door before it opened to allow Kirion and Ecphen to walk inside. Kirion, it seemed, was purposely muting every sound that he could after witnessing Legolas' reactions to sudden noises.

Thranduil squeezed Legolas' hands once more and placed a kiss upon his forehead, before standing up and allowing Ecphen to take his place in front of the couch. Legolas' eyes hazily followed his father as he walked over to Kirion, before he turned them to Ecphen, who knelt before him.

After knowing Legolas and being the royal healer for as many centuries as he had, Ecphen was immediately able to pick up on the subtle signs of deterioration. This was especially the darkness of his eyes and the paleness of his skin.

"Welcome home, my Prince," Ecphen said softly, though he was already assessing him. "I suppose that since you aren't half covered in blood and wounds that I should be proud of the state you've returned to us in."

The faint and tired smile that appeared upon Legolas' lips at those words did nothing to soothe Ecphen's worries.

"Have you become bored in my absence, Ecphen?" Legolas asked amused.

"On the contrary, I have found the respite rather invigorating," Ecphen chuckled as he reached out towards Legolas. Ecphen found that the second he moved his hand; Legolas' eyes followed it like it was an enemy about to attack him, every nerve in his body tense and on edge.

When his hand touched Legolas' cheek, he could see how his Prince struggled not to recoil from it. The coldness of the skin beneath his palm was unmistakable and worrying. The second he moved his fingers down to Legolas' neck, Legolas jerked out of his hold and snatched hold of his wrist with a bruising grip.

It seemed only an instant later that Legolas realized what he had done and hurriedly let go of his wrist once more, his eyes wide and his breathing fast. Then he seemed to withdraw slightly and pull away from him, as if he was no longer sure of himself.

Ecphen had seen the symptoms that Legolas were portraying many times before, though never so violent. Many elves that returned from battlefield or torture or some other trauma bore scars from the experience; the problem was that Legolas' had been allowed to accumulate throughout thousands of years.

"I'm just going to take your pulse," Ecphen said softly, "Trust me."

Legolas seemed to slump together at those words and Ecphen was able to see just how exhausted the Prince was. He reached out and was this time allowed to place his fingers upon Legolas' pulse. As anticipated, blood was pumping feverishly through Legolas' veins.

Ecphen sighed as he drew back and began digging through his bag of herbs.

"What is it?" Kirion asked anxiously, "What is wrong with him?"

Thranduil placed his hand upon his youngest son's shoulder to silence him and offer him his support. He, himself, was fully aware of what was happening to his eldest. He had been aware since he had noticed the change in Legolas when they had moved from the courtyard to the room they were in now.

"Battle-sickness," Ecphen answered softly, "that's generally the term we use for what your brother has, though it varies from person to person." He mixed some herbs together in one of the mugs and poured the steaming water into it.

"Here…" Ecphen said and handed the mug to Legolas after it had cooled down slightly. "It should help numb your senses slightly and slow down your heart rate. I know that you already have a lot of experience with what you're suffering from…"

"It was never so bad…" Legolas whispered, gazing down on the warm, green liquid inside the mug. "I've never known anyone who's had it so bad…"

Ecphen frowned troubled and began questioning Legolas, "When did it start?"

Legolas glanced at his father and brother before sighing and answering, "I've felt like there was something wrong… like there was something out of place inside me for years… It flared up every time I was in these Halls, but not as bad as when I arrived this time…"

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

Legolas' hands tightened around the mug before he lifted it to take a long draught of the tea. After a few moments, Legolas' shoulders fell slightly from their tense positions and he blinked slowly.

"I thought it was just grief," he then answered, his voice reflecting his exhaustion.

"…I suppose her death was the trigger …the last straw," Ecphen voiced slowly, carefully, "I think the two have been mixed together, aggravated each other."

Legolas nodded mutely before drinking the rest of the tea. Ecphen took the empty mug from him and placed it back onto the tray on the table.

"When was the last time you slept through an entire night without any nightmares?" Ecphen asked. "When was the last time you felt rested when you woke up?"

Legolas bowed his head and rubbed his temples helplessly. There was exhaustion and weariness in his posture that could not be mistaken. Ecphen knew that Legolas was well over and across the line of what he could endure.

"I don't know, all right?" Legolas whispered hoarsely, his voice bearing a hint of frustration, "I don't know… The last time I felt truly rested? Truly at peace? I can hardly remember… Before everything went wrong… When I was lying in the morning sun's first rays with Faneth laying against me and it woke because the wind blew strands of her hair over my nose…"

The last words he whispered mostly to himself, and it seemed like Legolas had almost forgotten about them, lost in memory. Despite the softness of his voice, though, the others were able to hear every word when they strained their ears.

Ecphen was silent for a moment, contemplating Legolas with sadness in his eyes. "Your mind had been through a lot of trauma, Legolas," he then responded, placing his fingers under Legolas' chin and lifting his head so Legolas' tired, sapphire blue eyes locked upon his, "now it's finally saying stop. Elves are more enduring than most… but what you've withstood for thousands of years is more than anyone can bear without it leaving deep, deep scars… I not surprised this is happening, nor am I surprised at it's severity."

Legolas nodded numbly before sighing and closing his eyes, letting his head hang once more. Ecphen placed his fingers on his pulse once more and felt that it had slowed considerably because of the herbs, no doubt making Legolas feel tired and sluggish.

"…Were there sleeping herbs in the tea…?" Legolas mumbled exhausted.

"No," Ecphen answered. He threw a questioning glance at Thranduil and mouthed 'where?'. When Thranduil nodded towards his bedroom, Ecphen placed his arm around Legolas and helped him to his feet.

"Your body had already suffered more than it can endure so the calming herbs I gave you are affecting you more than normally," Ecphen rationalized while he supported Legolas into his father's bedroom, helping him down under the covers. "It would be good for you if you could sleep well into tomorrow, give your body time to restore itself slightly."

Legolas looked pale and drawn against the wine red covers of the King's vast bed. His sapphire blue eyes looked up at him almost dazed for a moment before beginning to blink sluggishly, his eyes gradually closing for longer periods of time. When Legolas' eyes finally shut, they remained so instead of opening once more, glazed, as elves were wont.

Afterwards, when Ecphen entered the sitting room once more, he found Thranduil explaining battle sickness to his second son.

"-brother has been fighting for a long time and he has a lot of bad memories, frightening even, connected to these halls. Because of all the trauma he has been through he is having a hard time distinguishing between what is real and what isn't," Thranduil said gently, eyeing Ecphen briefly as he came into the room. "I have no doubt that his mind is aware that there is no danger to him now and that we are not enemies, but his body is different. It is reacting instinctively, confused about which feelings belong in the past and which are there right now."

Kirion's expression was grim. "What can we do to help him?"

"Make him rest as much as possible and eat regularly so he can regain some of his strength," Ecphen responded softly. "I'm not sure how much more his body can take, so I would advise to keep him away from anything that could stress him."

Thranduil's eyes were unfocussed and he stood a moment before saying, "Legolas wants to leave Eryn Lasgalen. He said that there is no peace for him to find here and that Aragorn asked for his help in restoring the woods of Ithilien. He wants to do so." He looked up at the healer, "Is this wise? In the condition that he is in right now?"

"You should let him rest for a while, but yes, I believe that Legolas is right…"


	4. Seeking havens

_A/N: I'm sorry for the delay I've had the busiest summer I can ever remember having... I'll probably be busy for the next couple of weeks as well but I'll get the next chapter written as quickly as possible :) Thank you for your patience._

* * *

 **Chapter four – Seeking havens**

Even as Legolas walked through the airy woods of Northern Ithilien, it seemed that in an instant, one forest stopped and another began. Trees that had previously been ash and oak now changed, the trunks became wider and taller, and the bark that covered them was not green or brown, as they had been so far, but white, gleaming in the light that came in through spaces in the canopy.

A gush of wind blew through the woods and took hold of the hood of his cloak, pulling it off his head. Immediately, his silvery-white hair tumbled out from underneath, swirling in front of his face and eyes. He barely acknowledged this, though, and only absentmindedly brushed it behind his ears as he kept on walking, because at that moment he truly saw the leaves that formed the canopy.

As the wind blew through the leaves and made them rustle and sway with a gentle melody, the leaves shimmered beautifully, unlike anything he had seen before. It seemed like the leaves were curling and fluttering in the air like the wings of a butterfly, ever changing and graceful. The gentle rustling echoed through the clearing and mixed with the sound of running water and the clear singing of birds.

Bending down to pick up one of the leaves from the lush grass that covered most of the forest floor, Legolas turned it in his hands. The upper surface of the leaf was green like many others but when he turned it the underside was white, almost like it was covered with soft down. When he held the leaf up towards the sun and squinted, he could see the small veins running underneath its light green surface.

This was the place…

He lowered his hand once more and allowed the leaf to flutter towards the forest floor, before allowing his feet to take him further into the white forest. He kept walking for some time, taking in every detail he could of the world around him. The sound of running water had led him to a steady stream of fresh water cutting through the green grass that created the undergrowth along with several white flowers.

Following the stream and then walking further into the forest, he soon came to a slightly more airy glade and in its center there seemed to be the very heart of the white woods. A large and old white tree stood proud there, its dense canopy shadowing the better part of the glade. Legolas gazed upon the tree for a moment, and as he began moving towards it his foot bumped against something lying in the grass. Crouching, he brushed the blades of grass aside to reveal a rusty dagger.

Even this small haven in Ithilien had seen battle, had seen war.

With this thought in mind, he looked around the glade once more and picked up on small signs of battle. There were occasional scratches and nicks on the tree trunks and now that he looked carefully he could see some other old and forgotten weapons lying around.

Legolas stood still for a moment, but then slowly lowered some of his barriers and opened his mind to any impressions the forest would give him. At first, unbelievably, he felt nothing… but as he opened himself further he could hear a soft lament echoing through the trees, almost like the forest was weeping for the darkness that had penetrated its peace.

Something awoke inside him at that moment… It was almost like he had reached the end of his line for what he could take being destroyed and sullied by darkness. No more… He wouldn't allow darkness to reign free anymore… wouldn't allow it to destroy what little he had left…

Legolas jerked into a run and threw himself at the great tree in the middle. The moment his hands made contact with its bark, the whole tree shuddered and for a moment everything else seemed to stand still until suddenly white light erupted from Legolas' body, blasting through the glade and the areas around it. Rolling through the forest in waves of light, leaving no darkness in its wake.

The trees immediately began livening up and crying out in joy and relief as they responded to Legolas' energy, throwing their consciousnesses against his in an attempt to latch themselves to the peace and calmness that he provided them. For a moment he felt like he was the very heart of the forest… Every thought, feeling, and memory of the forest seemed to be travelling through him too quickly for him to absorb anything, and every time his heart beat, the forest seemed to pulse with it.

At that moment, Legolas forced himself out of the rushing river of energy and impressions, pulling away from the trees and building up his barriers once more. Being unguarded for so long… it brought emotions to the surface that he would rather remain buried…

Exhausted, Legolas allowed himself to slide to his knees, leaning against the great tree in the middle of the glade. He opened his sapphire blue eyes and rested his cheek against the white bark. A few strands of silvery-white hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He licked his lips, his mouth dry because of his heavy breathing.

He wondered if he would hear the trees singing and crying out in joy if he unguarded his heart and mind at that moment…?

"Legolas!"

Legolas turned his head and saw Alfirin jumping from the branches of a tree and hurrying into the glade. His minder looked worried but also seemed to take in the glade with sparkling eyes.

The others would probably also come running soon… those who had followed him from Eryn Lasgalen to find the place for the new settlement in Ithilien and begin preparations for more elves to come. This group consisted of Alfirin and his nephew Yúcalë, Gruinor, Pengon, Roben, and the wood elves Isilmë as well as the twins Anarórë and Elfaron.

"Legolas?"

Legolas blinked away his daze to see that Alfirin had crouched before him, against the trunk of the great tree. His minder's hand, annoyingly, snuck its way up to his forehead to check if he had a fever.

"You shouldn't release so much power, Legolas," Alfirin said in melodic Nandorin, gazing at him with those hawk-like eyes of his. "You are not strong enough at the moment."

Legolas growled lowly in annoyance and pushed himself to his feet in protest. "There's nothing wrong with me, I'm-"

At that moment, the world darkened before his eyes and pain sparked through his forehead. He would have fallen down if Alfirin hadn't reacted quickly and risen to his feet as well, supporting him and lowering him down before he could fall.

When his sight cleared once more and the pain in his forehead died, he found himself looking straight at Alfirin, whose green and yellow eyes were completely blank and emotionless.

"Of course you're fine," Alfirin deadpanned. "Why would there be anything wrong with you just because you haven't eaten properly since we left Eryn Lasgalen? Even through you haven't slept restfully even once because of nightmares, there's no reason why you should be affected in any way whatsoever by giving two thirds of your remaining energy to the forest, silly me."

A feral smile then lit up on Alfirin's face and his eyes gleamed abnormally. "You seem so fine that maybe we should leave you hear all by yourself to waste away in silence until the only movement you can make is the dust flying before your mouth every time you breathe. Here you will then pass, lying until the end, and when the wolves come they will eat-"

The rest of Alfirin tirade ended in a yelp as Yúcalë jumped down from the branches above them and punched Alfirin soundly over the head. "Uncle," Alfirin's nephew greeted cheerfully, his face lit up in a radiating smile. "How are you this fine morning?"

Even as Alfirin grumbled indistinctly in a threatening way, his hands twitching towards his weapon, pearly laughter was heard from above, and Isilmë, Elfaron, and Anarórë jumped down from the tree as well.

Using the distraction they created, Alfirin pounced on Yúcalë like a cat and threw him to the ground. The young wood elf laughed and wrestled with his uncle, eventually rolling Alfirin around so he was on top of him so he was able to spring up and bundle away into the forest. Alfirin followed him with a growl, light shining in his green and yellow eyes. Soon the only traces of them were the faint rustling of leaves and the sound of Yúcalë's playful teasing.

"It's about time," Elfaron grinned, his cat-like eyes turning to his twin, Anarórë. "Yúcalë has been getting on Alfirin's nerves throughout the trip, it's a wonder he hasn't shot him yet. Hopefully we can have some peace once they've settled this."

She grinned in return, the same amusement dancing in her dark green eyes.

"I will shoot him myself if it continues this way," Isilmë muttered annoyed, flicking her silver hair over her shoulder.

She then turned and walked gracefully over to where Legolas was still sitting against the great trunk of the old tree. She made to say something, but at that moment another sound was borne by the wind, and the ground shook with the same forewarning: Horses were galloping in their direction. None of them tensed, however, because they recognized the horses as being elven by their swift pace in travelling through the forest.

It wasn't long before five horses came into sight of the glade and trotted the rest of the way. Pengon, Roben, and Gruinor sat astride three of the horses. Arod was there as well and Tinco who was carrying some of their provisions.

Legolas watched them ride in with tired eyes, breathing deeply and slowly to satisfy his body's craving for air. An ache had settled just inside his forehead and it pulsed with every beat of his heart. It seemed that the pain made all his thoughts turn to muddle inside his head and he could no longer find the strength to stand as the remaining members of his team rode up to them.

He watched mutely as Pengon strode over to him after jumping down from his horse and kneeled before him, checking his pulse and looking at him through brown eyes that shone with worry.

"Go to sleep, Captain," Pengon said in his calm voice before gently pressing him down on his side in the soft grass. "We'll keep watch while you do…"

Somewhere in the back of Legolas' head, he thought about protesting but all such thoughts faded to silence as Pengon's hand brushed over his face, closing his eyelids, and everything became dark.

When he woke once more it was still daylight, though the state of the campsite that had been set up around the old tree he was lying beside suggested that at least a day had passed since then. He gazed at the camp and his companions. All of them were sitting around the campfire, eating what smelled like stew and laughing softly at Elfaron as he recounted some miraculous getaway.

For a time, he just laid there, happy to listen and watch as he attempted to determine the state of his body. His head was still throbbing dully, but it wasn't much worse from what had become the norm so it was tolerable at least. It had been worth it… The almost unperceivable tension that had been in the trees was gone now, replaced with a placid calmness. This much, at least, he could feel without unlocking the walls around his mind…

Legolas closed his eyes once more, already seeing the images of his nightmares on the back of his eyelids. He had had them so many times that they were no longer a shock to him… he no longer cried out on the throes of panic, or at least not unless they were worse than normal… Oftentimes when he thought he had conquered his demons they decided to show him just how terrifying they could be.

With a sigh, Legolas pushed himself up from the ground. Immediately, the conversation his companions were having faded to silence as their eyes suddenly locked on him. He gave them a small smile before rising to his feet and then gazing around the glade.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked, breaking the silence in the white forest.

"A couple of days," Pengon answered worriedly. "You woke up a few times but it won't surprise me if you don't remember, you were disorientated. We tried to move you but the tree wouldn't let us."

Legolas blinked, and blinked once more. Two days… He looked at the old tree he had been sleeping against and placed his hand upon its white bark. Immediately, a vague feeling of protectiveness flowed into him from the tree. For a minute he just stood there, but then patted the bark and walked over to his companions.

"I'm sorry for making you wait," he said.

"Yer shouldn' feel sorry for nothing, laddie," Gruinor said gruffly. "The only thing that's important is tha' you look better now than you did before. How're you feelin'?"

"Better," Legolas smiled. He looked around the white forest, once more taking in its beauty. "I want to build the settlement here."

"We thought you might," Alfirin grinned, speaking in accented Sindarin so Gruinor, Pengon, and Roben could understand him. "The forest has already been marked as yours ever since your power swept through its boughs."

"We've been mapping the area for you," Yúcalë said cheerfully from the branch above the campsite where he was sitting with Isilmë, keeping a distance to his uncle.

The next hours went with planning and mapping out where buildings, housings, fields, and everything else necessary would be situated, wells, storehouses, healing halls, training grounds – small, primitive training grounds which purpose wasn't to train anyone for war.

It was decided that the houses would both be in the treetops and on the forest floor, all built from wood that would be found from trees fallen from war or simply too weary to go on. There would be no halls but rather pavilions and gazebos giving free view to the surrounding forest and under which there would be served food and held feasts.

The old tree would be the center of the settlement and it was there that Legolas would make a home for himself. Perhaps it would have been easier to rest in the outskirts of the settlement, easier to forget and hide from questions and the like… but he felt drawn to the old tree, as if he were drowning and the tree was the only way to the surface, and he knew that isolating himself at the edge would be the easy way out for him, it would be the same as drowning himself in his own grief…

Around midday all the plans were finished. Mumbling something about going to wash his face, Legolas rose to his feet and walked away from the camp that the others had made in the middle of the forest. He walked through the white trees, following the sound of running water. White anemones and violet irises dotted the green grass upon which he walked.

Soon he came upon a small stream, which opened up further down and flowed into a lake. From where he was standing he could already see the white water lilies and green lily pads floating upon the quiet water.

Tearing his eyes from the peaceful sight, Legolas kneeled beside the trickling stream that ran into the lake. He dipped his hands into the water, enjoying the feel of the water surging through his fingers, before cupping his hands and splashing water onto his face. Immediately, both his tiredness and his headache faded slightly in response to the fresh coolness of the water.

"How long do you plan on continuing like this?"

The words, though spoken softly in Nandorin, made him start and jerk his head around. Alfirin was leaning against on of the trees just behind, his eyebrow creased and his green and yellow eyes looking mercilessly into his. After the years they had spent alone, together in the wild, Legolas felt that the understanding between them was deeper than words.

"You're losing yourself bit by bit and you're barely doing anything to stop it," Alfirin said.

Legolas wanted to look away from those intense eyes, but Alfirin wouldn't let him. It almost seemed as though the wood elf was forcibly holding his eyes in place.

"I'm doing everything I can…" Legolas whispered. "What more do you want me to do?"

"I want you to stop telling yourself silly little lies like 'I'm doing everything I can'" Alfirin answered, his eyes piercing him. "You tell everyone that you're going to fight this tooth and nail, you tell us that you want to live on this side of the sea, that you want to see your grandchildren grow up, but the truth is that you're only withdrawing into yourself more and more every day."

Alfirin pushed away from the tree and walked over to Legolas, still keeping their eyes locked. He crouched before his ward and griped Legolas' chin so he could lift his face, looking intensely into his midnight orbs, his gaze flickering from one to the other and back.

"Your eyes are even more darkened now than they were a year after you found out that Faneth had died," Legolas flinched at the blunt mention of Faneth, "which means that you are getting worse instead of better. You were getting better for a while but then you seemed to draw into yourself."

Alfirin took Legolas hand in his and lifted them so they could see them. Legolas' hand was almost dull whereas Alfirin's shone with the light of the Eldar.

"You cannot even feel the trees anymore, can you? You cannot even hear them whispering to you with worry…" Alfirin closed his eyes and breathed deeply, as if he himself was listening, before looking intensely at Legolas once more. "You're barricading yourself in, hiding behind your walls and making them so thick that no emotions can get through them. You're trying to numb the feelings inside your heart, trying to suppress them and will them away as if they weren't even your own.

"You're using so much of your energy locking your own emotions away that you have almost nothing left to function on a day to day basis. You're even giving yourself nightmares because the only outlet all the feelings that you have suppressed have is when you're asleep, when you're at your most unguarded. You're doing exactly the same thing you did when your mother died." Alfirin's voice cracked at the end.

Legolas' eyes widened with shock at the comparison.

"Yes I know what happened now," Alfirin continued, his yellow and green eyes both furious and grieved. "Thranduil told me before he let me take you into the forest, because maybe the symptoms would show once more. Perhaps you would be _stupid_ enough to bury everything inside yourself once more."

Alfirin's voice was like a whiplash and Legolas flinched as if he had been struck.

"You're not alone, Legolas," Alfirin implored, softly after seeing Legolas' reaction. "There are people around you who will help you – who want to help you. You are not, and never will be, alone. We don't want you to force yourself to seem happy for our sakes; we don't need you to pretend to be strong when you're not. Every single one of us has known you for thousands of years and you won't fall in our regard. We _know_ you, Legolas."

"I barely know myself anymore…" Legolas whispered hoarsely. "So how can you know me? How could you possibly know?"

"I know that of all the characteristics that you have there is one thing that you have never lacked, even when you were an elfling… Do you know what that is?" Alfirin asked gently, moving his hand from Legolas' chin to his cheek.

"Stupidity?" Legolas huffed.

Legolas could see the moment where Alfirin was tempted to agree with him, but then his minder smiled sadly and shook his head. "Huorë…" [Courage]

Legolas was mute for a moment, but then his expression abruptly turned to anger. He grabbed the sleeve of the hand that Alfirin was still holding and yanked it down, exposing the scars that ran sharply across it. "You call thiscourage?" he spat. "You call _this_ courage? You see fading from grief as being the same as having courage?"

"I see being able to stand and keep walking no matter what happens as having courage," Alfirin answered, his eyes were sad as he regarded the scars.

"I'm not walking," Legolas chuckled darkly. "Hell, I'm barely even crawling. You think I don't know that I've been locking my feelings away? You think I don't know that it's tearing my mind apart?"

"Then do something about it!" Alfirin snapped, shaking Legolas. "Unlock your mind, lower your barriers! Fight this! The darkness is gone from the world, Legolas. You no longer need to barricade your mind to protect yourself! I remember you as an elfling, running around in the forest and connecting to every living thing in proximity. Regain that bond; let the forest comfort you."

"Nothing can comfort me," Legolas breathed, devastation in his eyes. "The second I pull down those walls down, the second I lower my barriers… It's going to feel like losing her all over again…" He clenched his eyes shut. "It's going to feel like I'm cut in half… How can you say that I have courage when so many before me have lost pieces of their soul and still continued on? How can you say I'm strong when they have been able to live their lives as though nothing was wrong?"

"And I'm sure that they have not achieved that by isolating themselves and not allowing anyone to help them," Alfirin said softly, cupping Legolas' cheeks. "Even the wisest and the most courageous need help sometimes, Legolas. That's why I'm here… That's why I'm here to tell you that you're being an idiot and that you need to pull yourself together. I'll stay beside you every step of the way, but to do that you need to allow me to help you."

Alfirin suddenly gave a sad chuckle. "When you were little the trees would be calling out to you desperately and trying to pull you to them if you ever got this upset. They would wrap their branches around you and sing to the skies if it could possibly cheer you up. Now you're hiding your pain so deeply that they don't even know anything is wrong."

Alfirin paused for a moment, but then whispered, "Lerya turmatya, Titta Lassë… Estelio nin, estelio imlë. _Ea_ astalda, _sámë_ huorë… Ványë lestaldë…" [Release your shield, little leaf… Trust me, trust yourself. _Be_ strong, _have_ courage… I will not leave you…]

Legolas shuddered as if he was experiencing physical pain and when he at last closed his eyes whole his body seemed to bend slightly in on itself, as if he was trying to protect his core. True to his word, Alfirin didn't pull away from Legolas but rather moved closer and rested his forehead against his ward's, placing his palm against the back of Legolas' head and closing his own eyes.

"Ea astalda, Titta Lassë," Alfirin breathed. [Be strong, Little Leaf]

Alfirin felt the exact moment when he began to undo his barriers. The energy that had once locked his thoughts and feelings away now returned to his body, making the spot where his forehead rested against Legolas' and his hand tingle. As Alfirin opened his eyes, he could see some glow returning to Legolas' skin, but not nearly enough for him to be considered 'all right'.

What really broke his heart, however, was the intense grief he felt welling up inside Legolas. It seemed like there was an unstoppable wave of emotions that flooded through Legolas the moment he released the barrier that held it back. Legolas began trembling and it only grew in intensity the more he lowered his guard. His hand moved up and held cramp-like on to the necklace he had around his neck.

In tact with Legolas loosening his guard, Alfirin could feel the trees beginning to sense the Prince again. What started out as mutterings soon became almost desperate cries and panicked songs as they attempted to comfort Legolas, even though he was too far gone to hear them. The trees closest to them stretched out their branches in an attempt to touch Legolas, but being unable to reach.

Finally Legolas opened his eyes once more, completely drained. Immediately, Alfirin watched as tears welled up in the now gentian blue eyes and rolled down his alabaster cheeks. Even though Alfirin could see how the release had helped Legolas' body, he could also see that it had only torn Legolas apart once more.

"Come with me," Alfirin said softly. He wrapped his arms around Legolas and squeezed him before helping him to his feet, supporting him when he stumbled. "You are going to leave building Ithilien to the others, instead you'll be coming with me to Rivendell, to be with Maliel and your grandsons…"

Alfirin wiped the tears off Legolas' cheeks and wrapped his arm around him to guide him back towards the campsite.

Legolas opened his mouth, but Alfirin cut him off as he said: "No protesting. We've all agreed that this is what needs to be done and all of them are ready to take responsibility of building your haven while you gather strength to be able to rule it. Caladel and Naruvir are only going to be infants for a little while, soon they'll grow to have minds of their own…

"It's better to spend as much time with them as possible when they're this age because you never know how they'll turn out," Alfirin huffed in annoyance, "just look at my nephew. It's a wonder I haven't yet turned to murder."

Alfirin sighed when Legolas didn't respond, knowing that his attempts at distracting Legolas from the pain weren't working. At that moment though, they walked into sight of the camp and, just as planned, Alfirin saw that the others had readied and packed Arod and Tinco.

Legolas seemed to draw somewhat out of his own hell when they approached the others, though he didn't let go of his death-grip on his necklace. The moment he saw them he looked slightly stricken and Alfirin could feel the tension forming in his body, knowing that Legolas was desperately trying to figure out what to say to them while at the same time being horrified that they were seeing him in such a state.

It turned out that it wasn't necessary for him to say anything because at that moment Yúcalë stepped over to where his uncle was supporting the Prince.

"Go, Legolas," Yúcalë said softly, his smile gentle instead of teasing. He stepped up to Legolas and placed a kiss upon his brow. "We'll take care of everything here."

Alfirin felt the tension bit by bit leave Legolas' body until he hung his head in defeat. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely.

O

Silvery moonlight from the full moon lit up the light wood of the Maliel and Elrohir's cottage as Legolas stepped up to the door. He lifted his hand to knock but stopped hesitantly. He stood there for a moment but then lowered his hand once more. Reluctance spread throughout his body at the thought of waking them at this ungodly hour.

Despite this though, the fact that there was only a thin barrier of wood between him and his family made an ache grow inside his chest. Supposing that he would be able to slip in without waking them and make sure they were all right before going outside to sleep until morning came, he lifted his hand once more and gently turned the doorknob.

The cottage was peaceful as he stepped inside, moonlight shining in from the open balcony at the far side of the house but other than that no lights were lit. The door stood open to the guest room and Legolas could see the unmade bed inside as he walked soundlessly through the corridor. On the contrary, the door to Elrohir and Maliel's room was closed and he could hear soft breathing from inside as he passed it.

He felt a knot loosening inside his chest as he walked through the peaceful cottage. They were safe…

The door to the nursery stood slightly ajar, no doubt so Maliel and Elrohir would easily be able to hear if something was wrong with the twins. He stood in front of the door for a moment before placing his hand upon the wood and gently pushing it open. The room was dark except for a dim silvery light that came through two arched windows and shone in on the large crib that stood against the wall.

The light crib was made of white wood with intricate carvings running along the upper rim, carvings of animals and plants and trees… Legolas stepped into the room and soundlessly moved over the floor as if pulled by an invisible force. Naruvir and Caladel were lying side by side in the crib, their features relaxed in sleep and their small hands touching.

They had gotten slightly bigger since last time he had seen them and he wondered how much he had already missed. By now they were almost two months old… Their hair had thickened and taken on a definite shade of auburn.

He stepped up to the crib, planning to gaze down upon them as they slept, but at that moment Naruvir's silver eyes opened to sleepy slits, Caladel's were quick to follow. Naruvir continued to blink drowsily up at him but in the next moment Legolas saw Caladel's face scrunch together and hurried forward before he could let out a cry.

"Shh… Don't cry… Shh…" Legolas whispered hurriedly, bending down to caress both Caladel and Naruvir's cheeks before taking their free hands in his. Caladel whimpered and Naruvir was quick to follow his twin's lead.

"Shh…" Legolas tried once more, but as tears began to well up in the twins' eyes he abandoned his attempt and began singing softly to them instead, keeping their small hands in his.

" _Holta hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _I-Súrë wáya i telda foa_

 _I-arauca uin sire tulië sérën_

 _Cainë nún i-lass uin túra amaldar_

 _Holta hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _Lenna ana fúmë"_

Almost immediately, the tears disappeared from their silvery eyes, only a few managing to slide down their apple cheeks. Legolas brushed the few tears aware without letting go of their hands. He could hear the twins' breathing begin to calm down completely.

" _Holta hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _I-Anar yallumë serin hendirya_

 _Sin i isil síla telpë calima_

 _Samtyë i-silmë tana tiëtya_

 _Holta hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _Lenna ana fúmë"_

The sleepy grey eyes looking into his began blinking sluggishly and both twins yawned hugely. Legolas smiled as he sang and watched as Caladel smiled back drowsily while Naruvir seemed to be on the verge of sleep.

" _Holta hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _I-nóri o olori dartha an le_

 _Varië quenti o cîr ar eleni ar estel_

 _Sívëtya tiruvan mi hondo-ninya_

 _Hotya hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _Lenna ana fume_

 _An tiruvan le, tiruvan le"_

Both Naruvir and Caladel's eyes slid shut, their small mouths open to allow soft breaths to leave them. Legolas gazed upon them for a moment before closing his eyes and pressing a kiss against first Caladel's and then Naruvir's forehead. "I will watch over you," he whispered gently, before straightening.

"Ada?"

Legolas started alarmed, his senses already beginning to scream at him. He spun around and saw his daughter standing in the doorway, her eyes tired but calm as they gazed into his. Her long, auburn curls fell loosely over one of her shoulders, lying against the white lace nightgown she was wearing.

"I'm sorry," Legolas whispered hurriedly. The rate of his heart was beginning to speed up as the beginnings of panic grabbed him. He looked away from Maliel and hugged his arms around his chest as an attempt to hold himself together. "I- I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to come in and see if everything was all right but then they just woke up, and Caladel was about to start crying, and I tried to calm him down but I wasn't quiet enough, and-"

"Ada, it's all right," Maliel said softly. She made to step closer to him but stopped as he flinched involuntarily.

"Maliel?" Elrohir's sluggish voice sounded from the bedroom.

Maliel didn't respond to his call but kept gazing at her father instead, worried that she might frighten him more. Soon she could hear Elrohir's feet touch the floor.

"Forgive me," Legolas breathed out, his breathing becoming heavy. "I didn't want to disturb you… I was just going to leave quietly and come back in the morning… I know you're both tired… I'm so sorry."

"Legolas?" Elrohir's voice sounded from the doorway as he stopped beside Maliel, wearing only a pair of leggings. All traces of tiredness had disappeared from his voice and his expression became worried when he saw Legolas, who had by now begun pacing the floor, his anxiety apparent in every move he made.

"I'm sorry." Legolas stopped pacing and instead moved towards the doorway without looking at them. "Forgive me… You should both go back to sleep and I'll come back in the morning."

Legolas made to shoulder his way between them but Elrohir reached out and placed his hands against Legolas' arms, stopping him. Legolas immediately tensed. "Nonsense," Elrohir spoke soothingly. "You aren't going outside to sleep in the cold. We'll have a bed made for you in only a couple of minutes and then we can all go to sleep. …Calm down, Legolas."

The twin guided Legolas gently over to a comfortable chair in the corner of the nursery and pressed him down into it before kneeling beside him. Maliel came over as well and sat on the armrest, placing her hand upon her father's shoulder.

"Take deep breaths, Legolas," Elrohir murmured, his fingers moving up to Legolas' neck to monitor the way blood raced through his veins. "You haven't done anything wrong. Elladan comes over like this constantly… Anyways, I reckon that you're more tired than Maliel and I combined. We're really glad to see you."

"He's right, Ada," Maliel whispered, pressing a kiss against her father's cheek. "We've been hoping that you might come by since we got grandfather's letter."

"O Valar…" Legolas grunted softly at those words and bent forward, placing his elbows on his knees and pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes.

"If I'm honest I don't think they have anything to do with it," Elrohir chuckled sadly. He placed his hands over Legolas' and drew them away from his face so he could look into his friend's exhausted, blue eyes. "We want to help you, Legolas. Please just let us make the bed so that you can sleep here tonight and every other night until we deem you well enough to leave."

Legolas shook his head tiredly. "I don't want to be of anymore trouble… and you already have Caladel and Naruvir to see to, and I'm sure that-"

"Ada!" Maliel exclaimed softly. She slipped from her seat and kneeled in front of him, her eyes stern and slightly alit with exasperation. "Do you really think so little of us that after everything you've done for us we would turn you away on our doorstep? We love you, and if there is anything we can do to help you then we are more than happy to do so." Her eyes became softer and sadness shone in them. "Don't think for a second that you're a burden to us," she whispered. "You're our family and you need us…"

Legolas felt his heart finally slowing down at his daughter's words, and tiredness seemed to gradually fill him up instead, all of his energy burned out. The feeling of claustrophobia seemed to disappear with the anxiety …he no longer felt as though the walls were closing in on him. He seemed to forget the reason why he didn't want to stay, or at least it no longer seemed to matter.

His eyes seemed to fall shut by themselves as he at last nodded in acceptance. Maliel's lips pressed against his forehead before he heard her get up and walk to the guestroom.

"Come Legolas," Elrohir whispered gently and reached up to unclasp Legolas' cloak. "Let's get this cloak off you." He pulled the cloak off Legolas' shoulders and laid it beside the chair.

"I'm sorry…"

"Stop apologizing," Elrohir said in a soft voice as he unlaced Legolas' wrist guards and pulled them off before doing the same with his belt and boots. "You have nothing to be sorry for… You know that you're always welcome in our home, no matter what time it is." He grasped Legolas' hands. "I am a healer, Legolas, I can feel how worn out you are… After everything you've been through I would be surprised if you didn't have panic attacks from time to time."

"I'm sorry…"

"Hush…" Elrohir whispered. "It's all right. I just wanted-"

At that moment Maliel came into the doorway once more. "It's ready," she said.

"Help me get him up," Elrohir spoke softly. "He's already halfway asleep."

He barely remembered being help up from the chair, nor being led down the hallway to the guest room. Everything seemed to be happening to someone else, almost like he was detached from his body. He could hear Maliel and Elrohir speaking quietly around him, but before he could even think to reach out to them, his head landed on a pillow and the world went black.

O

"This is just perfect," Elladan grumbled as he plodded through the dark woods around Rivendell. "Take care of the easy part of sending a half-dead Prince to his bed and then wake his twin to go into the forest in the middle of the night to search for the vexing minder."

He kicked a stone and continued sarcastically, "It's only natural that every guest should be offered a bed when arriving at the last homely house, good manners and all. As if the mad wood elf would ever care for a bed. Oh no, who would want a bed when you can sleep in mold-infested trees, playing with squirrels, and singing songs to the stars all night? Who needs comfort when you can lie the whole night with a great piece of bark sticking into your ribs? Comfort is so overrated. I wish that misbegotten, maddening, deranged lunatic is happy, because- "

"Are-"

A girlish scream rang through the forest.

…

"-you talking about me?" Alfirin finished after a long pause, ignoring the quivering sword the hysterically panting Elladan had pointed to his neck. He cocked his head and spread his lips in a feral grin. "You do know that talking to oneself is the first sign of insanity?"

* * *

Translation of lullaby:

 _Close thy eyes, my sweet_

 _The wind blows the last breath_

 _The rushing of the river has come to peace_

 _Lay down below the leaves of the great trees_

 _Close thy eyes, my sweet_

 _Go to sleep_

o

 _Close thy eyes, my sweet_

 _The sun at last rests her eyes_

 _Now the moon shines silver bright_

 _You have the starlight to show your path_

 _Close thy eyes, my sweet_

 _Go to sleep_

o

 _Close thy eyes, my sweet_

 _The lands of dreams wait for you_

 _Weaving tales of ships and stars and hope_

 _Thy peace I will guard within my heart_

 _Close thy eyes, my sweet_

 _Go to sleep_

 _For I will watch over you, I will watch over you_

(I came up with the lyrics and tried to translate as best I could with an elvish dictionary, but I'm no expert so there are probably a ton of mistakes... :D)


	5. Help from friends, part one

**Chapter five – Help from friends, part one**

Glorfindel followed the sound of arrows thumping against a hay target as he walked from the training ground to the archery field. Already from this distance, he could hear that the arrows were hitting the targets angrily, almost shattering upon impact. His suspicion as to who was shooting was confirmed as he calmly turned a corner around a large hedge and gained view of Legolas.

His friend was holding the bow completely taut and loosening arrows without pause towards the target. Shock and worry welled up inside his chest when he saw how the arrows dotted the entire target. He had never seen Legolas miss the center… Never. The level of distress that he could read from his friend's archery was nothing less than alarming.

Glorfindel watched silently for a while, gazing concerned as Legolas continued to shoot arrows without taking even a moment to breathe despite the fact that he wasn't wearing wrist guard and would therefore be grazed by the string's rebound every time. Because of the ruthlessness with which he was shooting, it was clear to see – even from the distance – how red lines crisscrossed his forearm.

It seemed that Legolas hadn't taken the time to change out of his nightclothes before rushing to the field, his hair flowing unrestrained down his back as well. The slight franticness of Legolas' rapid shooting as well as the sweat that drenched his nightshirt, told Glorfindel more than words. Legolas had had a nightmare. A bad one.

For safety precautions, it was first when all Legolas' arrows were either quivering in the targets or shattered in and around it that Glorfindel approached Legolas.

"I seem to remember a situation just like this," Glorfindel said softly. Legolas started and whirled around, looking at him through wide eyes. "It was a situation where I was also up early and found you in the fields, only this time I was approached by a frantic looking Elrohir who said that you had disappeared from their house."

"Glorfindel…" Legolas whispered.

Glorfindel smiled sadly as he reached Legolas. He outstretched his hand and placed it against Legolas' cheek. When Legolas automatically flinched away from the contact, his eyes still widened, Glorfindel frowned in worry and partially hurt. Seeing this, Legolas opened his mouth to apologize, but in the next moment Glorfindel reached out and pulled him into his arms, embracing him tightly. Immediately, Legolas went almost rigid.

"You really are determined to worry everyone and everything, aren't you?" Glorfindel sighed softly. "You sleep for a whole day, practically unconscious, and then you wake before the sunrise and leave without a word to anyone…You're lucky that I know you so well or else I would probably have searched all other corners of the house, thinking that this would be the last place you would go."

Glorfindel ran one of his hands up and down Legolas' back, gradually feeling the tension leaving it until at last Legolas was leaning against him willingly. Soon Legolas released his tense grip on his bow and let it fall to the grass, reaching up to clench the back of Glorfindel's tunic instead.

He let Legolas lean against him for a long time, supporting the younger elf's meager weight and trying to still the trembles that ran through the entire length of his body, shushing him and continuing to run his hand up and down his back. It was impossible to ignore the gauntness of the body he was holding and it frightened him to see his friend so heavily reduced.

Feeling the weariness that plagued Legolas, Glorfindel slowly lowered both of them to the ground, supporting Legolas the entire way. When they were both kneeling in the grass, he drew Legolas slightly away from his chest and captured his friend's exhausted sapphire eyes. It scared him to see the shadow inside them, to see the pain.

"What did you dream of?" Glorfindel asked in a soft and worried voice.

Legolas immediately felt a shudder travel through him at the onset of images that suddenly surrounded him.

 _He was back in the sea of blood… His feet submerged in the ruby liquid… Shackles clenched painfully around his wrists and ankles, chaining him to the ocean floor… Horrified, he pulled at the chains, blood splattering upon his face and body as he disrupted the sea in which he stood. No matter how much he pulled he could not get away… He could not flee…_

" _Ada…"_

 _A breath caught in his throat and came out as a mixture between a sob and a whimper. He pulled more desperately at the chains holding him but in the end he could not withstand the pull to look up. An elfling stood in the middle of the crimson sea a large smile upon her libs._

 _Tears immediately welled up inside Legolas' eyes and he began shaking intensely._

" _Not again…" Legolas sobbed, "Please just leave me alone…"_

" _You hurt my feelings, Ada," the elfling giggled. No matter how much Legolas wanted to close his eyes, he also drunk in the sight of her. Auburn curls framed a face so like his own, freckles dotting her ivy cheeks. Her large emerald green eyes seemed to shine with life… "Do you not want to see me?"_

" _No," Legolas choked._

 _In an instant anger twisted the elfling's face and her emerald green eyes turned black. "_ _ **Kneel**_ _."_

 _Legolas knees were forced out from under him and he landed with a splash in the shallow sea of blood. As the irony taste quickly filled his mouth, he flailed and attempted to get his legs under him once more. His shaking intensified as he looked down upon his bloodstained body._

 _A small hand was placed under his chin and his head was yanked up from gazing at his bloodied hands. The elfling's face was inches from his own, the same smile once more curling her lips upwards. She giggled girlishly, a sound that sent chills down Legolas' shine._

" _You're so silly, Ada, I'm your little girl. Of course you wish to see me." She stared into his eyes, her own darkening gradually. "I know that you love me, Ada,_ _ **so why did you kill me? Where were you, Ada? Where were you when I died? It was your fault. It was YOUR FAULT!**_ _"_

 _Legolas flinched as if he had been struck and tears flowed unrestrained down his cheeks. "I'm sorry…" he choked desperately. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"_

 _He attempted to reach out to her but the moment he touched her she began disintegrating right before his eyes, turning to the very blood he was kneeling in._

" _You killed me, Ada…" she accused, tickling through Legolas' fingers._

" _ **I gave you a choice, Prince."**_

 _Legolas started panicked at the old and scratchy voice and pivoted around, raising his shackled hands to defend himself. His mouth went dry and horror filled him when he saw the corrupted form of Annatar, the spirit of Sauron shining through the elvish disguise and making it hideous._

 _What truly twisted his gut was that Faneth was kneeling beside him, looking glassily ahead._

" _Faneth…?" Legolas breathed, his eyes widening and his shackled hand unconsciously reaching out towards her._

" _ **I told you what would happen,"**_ _Sauron laughed mockingly, the sound cutting through Legolas' ears._ _ **"I warned you what would come of defying me and still you chose to abandon your loved ones. We are so alike, Prince, you and I."**_

 _Legolas choked out a sob and shook his head desperately, his hands coming up to clench his hair._

" _ **You wanted this to happen,"**_ _Sauron continued with a foul grin._ _ **"You wanted to hear their screams, didn't you? Hear HER screams!"**_

 _At that moment, Sauron reached out and grabbed Faneth's neck. Immediately, an unearthly scream rang through the air. It seemed to cut through his bones and marrow even as Faneth's face twisted in agony and pain._

" _NO! NO, no, no, no!" Legolas cried desperately, tugging so much at his chains that his hands and ankles began to bleed. "PLEASE! Please let her go! PLEASE! STOP IT! STOP IT!" He sobbed heartbrokenly as Faneth continued to scream._

 _Sauron's laughter rung through the air and suddenly another scream joined Faneth's, male this time. Legolas snapped his head around and saw Húron being held by another Sauron, screaming as the dark energy clashed against the light of the Eldar._

" _Húron…" Legolas sobbed and raised his hands to his ears in an attempt to block out the sound of Faneth and Húron's screaming, but more screams came every second. Taenor, Maer, Hiwon, Osbon, Ecthel, Thand, Callon, Amath, his mother, Aewon, Anunir… Their screams drowned out his desperate pleas for it to stop, drowned out his inconsolable sobs._

 _He bent more and more in on himself, pressing his hands tighter and tighter against his ears even if it didn't spare him from the shrieking and screaming and wailing of his loved ones. He could barely breathe because he was crying so forcefully._

 _Suddenly, his daughter's reflection appeared in the bloody water between his knees and her green eyes looked up at him lifelessly._

" _You killed us," she said._

 _Then all of a dark hole opened beneath him and he found himself falling and waking with a choked scream._

"Legolas?"

Legolas flinched away from Glorfindel and scooted backwards, his eyes wide and his breathing ragged. As the wind blew through the training field he felt the air chill tear tracks that ran down his cheeks. He had lost himself in the memory…

He hugged his arms around his chest and hugged himself in a desperate attempt to stop the violent trembles that travelled through his body. Before he knew it he was being pulled back into Glorfindel's warm embrace and he felt his friend once more run his hand up and down his back in an attempt to make him relax.

"What was the dream about?" Glorfindel asked again after a while had passed and he deemed that Legolas was beginning to lose some of his tension once more.

Legolas immediately shook his head against Glorfindel's chest.

Glorfindel placed his hand under Legolas' chin and tilted his head upwards, catching his gaze. "I remember a time when you would tell me the nightmares that ravaged your mind… I know that it took a while for me to earn that trust, but I hope that I have not lost it once more… Please tell me, Legolas. Trust me. I want to help you and I can't do that fully if you don't talk to me."

"I do trust you…" Legolas whispered, but even so Glorfindel could see the apprehension in his eyes.

Nonetheless, Glorfindel nodded wordlessly and asked, "Was it a recurring dream?" He supposed that it would be easier for Legolas to open up if he began gently, asking questions which only demanded a yes or no answer.

Legolas averted his eyes, looking down into the grass. He took a shuddering breath, feeling his heart beginning to speed up once more. Closing his eyes, he tried to force his body to calm down, but the more he focused on his heartbeat the more panicked he felt. His mind knew that Glorfindel wasn't a threat to him, but the nightmare was still at the edge of his mind and the questioning was making it worse.

"Legolas?" Glorfindel asked, he reached up to lift Legolas' chin so he could catch his gaze, but the moment he reached towards him, Legolas flinched and scurried backwards, breathing heavily and looking wide eyed at him.

Immediately Glorfindel stopped moving, but Legolas scrambled to his feet, clutching his chest like he was in pain and moving backwards from Glorfindel. From the slightly unfocussed look in Legolas' eyes it was clear that he wasn't seeing what was truly in front of him.

"Legolas…" Glorfindel said in a soft and calm voice, holding his hands visible and out from his body in a placating way. When Legolas didn't respond to him, he called out a little louder. This time Legolas flinched and his eyes jerked to his, still breathing heavily.

"I'm going to stand up, all right Legolas?" Glorfindel asked softly. Legolas didn't respond, only looked at him with wide eyes. He stood up. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just going to come a bit closer."

Once more Legolas didn't respond, so Glorfindel began moving slowly towards his friend. Legolas was slowly inching backwards from him but it was a testament to his friend's strength that he didn't just turn around and run away.

"It's all right, Legolas, you're safe here," Glorfindel whispered gently when he was close enough. "Why don't you sit down? Trust me, I'm not going to hurt you. Just sit down." He tentatively reached out and took Legolas' hand in his, tugging it until they were both sitting in the grass.

Legolas' breathing was still much too rapid to satisfy him, but Glorfindel could see that he had gotten Legolas' undivided attention, almost like his friend was clinging to him like a lifeline. He reached out and placed his hand against Legolas' heaving chest, feeling him trembling and his heart beating erratically.

"You're in Rivendell, Legolas, it's safe here I promise," Glorfindel whispered in a calm voice. "I know that you know inside your head that you're safe, and that I won't hurt you… Just try to control your breathing for now. Take deep and steady breaths."

Legolas' body shuddered as he attempted to deepen his breathing, and Glorfindel could see the panic in his eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Glorfindel soothed him and then reached out and drew him into his arms, pressing Legolas' cheek against his chest. "Just listen to my breathing, focus on my heartbeat… That's it. You don't have anything to fear… Just calm down."

Glorfindel continued to mutter gently to Legolas, running his hand soothingly through the Prince's long silvery-white hair. As he didn't this he noticed someone nearing the field and looking up to see Elrohir walking tentatively towards them, his eyes fixed worriedly upon Legolas. When the twin saw that he had seen him, he changed his attention to him. Glorfindel gave a small shake of his head and mouthed, "I have him."

Immediately, Elrohir nodded and turned around to walk away before Legolas noticed that he had ever been there.

"It's all right, Legolas," Glorfindel murmured as he felt Legolas slowly begin to calm down in his arms. "You're all right. I have you."

"I'm sorry," Legolas whispered shakily. His breathing was still strained, but he had sagged against Glorfindel and his racing heart was gradually coming down in speed.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Glorfindel responded. "Nothing at all. You really don't get it do you, Legolas? …I want to help you; we all want to help you… I've already spoken to both Elrohir and Alfirin while you slept… I knew what to expect, but what I don't now is what you think about it…"

Legolas was silent for a while, still hiding inside Glorfindel's embrace. Glorfindel didn't pressure him, nor did he remove his arms and force Legolas to look him in the eye, wanting him to feel as safe as possible.

"You shouldn't have to help me…"

Legolas spoke so softly that Glorfindel nearly didn't register that he had spoken at all.

"Valar… I am so weak…"

"No!" Glorfindel snapped hoarsely and then lowered his voice once more when he felt Legolas start in his arms. "You are not weak, Legolas," he spoke softly. "It seems everyone on Middle Earth knows that except you… Do you have any idea how much you've been through? How many obstacles that you have conquered? You've faced evil your whole life, and you have had so much courage that my heart still pains me whenever I think of it…

"You've been fighting constantly for nearly two millennium, Legolas… Constantly pushing your body to the limits, never stopping to take an actual break. You've been wounded, you've been tortured, you've been in grief, you've been run down emotionally, and now you have the nerve to say that you're weak because your body can no longer handle it? Do you think you have the right to be disgusted by the fact you're your body can't take anymore after everything you've put it through?

"Every time something has happened, nightmares, pain, wounds, torture, grief, you have just kept on going and not allowed your body the time to rest and recuperate, always pushing on. You have slayed orcs and spiders and wraiths and battled Sauron himself, and now you call yourself weak? You are anything but my friend…"

"But… I…"

"No objections!" Glorfindel said sternly, holding Legolas tighter for a moment. "You so adamantly claimed that you trusted me before and now is the time to show that you meant what you said. Believe my words, Legolas. You are not weak. You are a very strong person, have always been a very strong person, but even the strongest have limits, and you've finally reached yours. You are not weak Legolas, you've just been strong for too long…"

"That makes no sense…" Legolas mumbled, but Glorfindel could hear that some of the weight had lifted from his voice.

"I said no objections," Glorfindel grumbled affectionately and squeezed Legolas.

They sat there for a long while, Glorfindel monitoring Legolas' heart rate and sighing in relief as it calmed down completely. As the sun slithered further up in the sky a group of elves wandered towards the archery field but scrambled away quickly when Glorfindel growled at them.

"I used to have them, you know?" Glorfindel spoke softly, breaking the silence. "Attacks of panic… When I first came back to Middle Earth, I was so …scarred from my previous life, from dying, and everything I had once known was gone, everything was different and I couldn't adapt. Every time I saw flames I felt that I couldn't breathe, that my heart was tearing itself apart. I would panic; try to get as far away as I possibly could, flashbacks of fighting the Balrog and Gondolin in flames haunting my mind."

Legolas slowly drew back from Glorfindel's chest and gazed upon him. Glorfindel could see that he had caught his attention, but it was also clear to him that his friend was beyond exhausted. The shadows under his eyes stood out in his too pale face.

"I had nightmares, just as I know you have now and always have had," Glorfindel continued, placing his palm against Legolas' cheek. "I couldn't stand being in crowds, couldn't bear to have anyone corner me… It was an irrational and mind-numbing fear."

"What did you do…?" Legolas asked.

Glorfindel gazed upon him and was once more painfully reminded of how young his friend was compared to him… If he could have taken even a small portion of Legolas' burdens upon his shoulders then he would have done so without second thought…

Most of the time, Legolas' age didn't show… He had been forced to mature over an incredibly limited amount of time and had seen so much death that he oftentimes seemed older than the oldest elf in Middle Earth, but sometimes – just sometimes – a glimmer of the elfling that had been forced into a painful world too soon would show.

"I had a lot of help," Glorfindel answered. "Elrond and Erestor realized what was going on. They talked to me and slowly began to gain my trust until I was ready to tell them of my terrors. They must have listened to my nightmares and my memories for hours; at first it was difficult but slowly the words seemed to just flow from my mouth whenever they asked. I got some tools to help me control my panic when it came…"

"What tools?" Legolas asked tiredly, laying his head back on Glorfindel's chest.

Glorfindel rested his cheek against the top of Legolas' head as he answered, "I found that when attacks were mild, then I could control them by breathing deeply and regularly. Three seconds in, three seconds out. Controlling my breathing made me feel in control of myself."

"…And if the attacks weren't mild?"

"I would talk to myself, inside my head," Glorfindel answered. "I would tell myself that there was nothing to fear, and that what I was afraid of had long since passed. What helped the most was humor. I would joke about my attack, trying to make myself laugh, because if I laughed then the anxiousness would fade away. …It would fade away and I would have won over it, conquered it, and that would have left me feeling strong."

"Would that help?"

Glorfindel nodded against Legolas' head. "It would help," he responded. "But what helped the most was talking to either Elrond or Erestor after the attack was over, process what had happened and what lay behind the attack. …And this time I know what was behind yours." He paused for a moment before asking the question that had been left unanswered, "Was it a recurring nightmare, Legolas?"

Legolas stayed silent so long that Glorfindel was beginning to doubt that he would answer at all when he at last whispered, "Somewhat… The scene… the scene was the same …but the content varies… Except for…"

Glorfindel waited but then encouraged Legolas gently. "Except for what?"

"…Her."

Legolas' voice was small and Glorfindel could feel him drawing more and more into himself. He knew how privileged he already was that Legolas showed this amount of trust in him, that he dared to lower his barriers and show this much frailty, so he didn't want to scare the elfling away, didn't want to abuse the trust that Legolas put in him.

"How about you show me instead?" Glorfindel asked softly. "Just this time. It doesn't help as much as talking about it yourself, but I would get a better understanding of what you're going through… You once told me that my mind was completely open, I know you can show me."

Glorfindel thought that he would have to coax Legolas into sharing his horrors – plead with him to allow him to carry some of his burden – and was therefore unprepared when his surroundings instantly changed to a sea of blood, almost like Legolas was desperate for someone to understand him.

The events that unfolded around him seemed to be vague and hazy, but despite this his heart was soon filled with horror and distress as he was forced to watch the shackles that held down his friend and bound him to his torment. For what was happening around him was torment, the screams, the accusations, the hate, the blame, the grief…

There was no doubt whom the elfling was, and it tore a hole through his heart.

When he came to, he found that sobs were being torn from deep within his chest and he was holding Legolas so tightly that he had no doubt in his mind that he would leave bruises on the elfling's skin. Legolas was trembling in his arms, having relived the whole thing with him.

"It wasn't your fault…" Glorfindel choked, pressing kisses repeatedly against the top of Legolas' head and holding him even tighter. "None of it was your fault, little one… It wasn't your fault…"

Glorfindel continued whispering unintelligent and comforting words to Legolas even long after he felt him stop trembling. Continually, he would reassure Legolas that what had happened hadn't been his fault, that there was nothing he could have done.

When Legolas seemed to have calmed down, almost to the verge of sleeping, Glorfindel leaned back until he was lying on in the grass with Legolas beside him. He drew slightly back and cupped Legolas' cheeks, gazing deeply into his sapphire eyes and brushing away the tears that had rolled down from them. There was both exhaustion and defeat in the infinite blue eyes and Glorfindel felt his heart clench as he looked into them.

Seeking to draw away some of pain from Legolas' eyes, afraid that it would soon overwhelm his friend, Glorfindel asked gently, "What had you and Faneth planned on naming her?"

Legolas' eyes glazed in memory.

 _Legolas looked down into the round and wide, sky blue eyes that looked so innocently up into his. "You're Ada's little girl, aren't you Maliel?" he cooed lovingly to the baby. Maliel gurgled and laughed waving her arms towards him from where she was lying in his lap, smiling brightly._

 _Faneth produced a shriek of excitement from the other side of the couch and hurried to his side, her amber eyes shining. "Legolas, she laughed!" his wife proclaimed with a musical laugh, beaming at him shortly before quickly turning back to their daughter. "That's her first laugh!"_

 _Legolas, too, laughed cheerfully when Maliel was quickly snatched from his lap and watched as Faneth held Maliel to her chest, laughing as she spun her around all the while applauding her and kissing her cheeks._

 _Faneth danced around the room with Maliel in her arms, their daughter seemed to have mastered her newly gained talent for she giggled and shrieked as she was twirled around in her mother's arms. Faneth laughed once more and looked up at Legolas with a light shining bright inside her golden eyes. He felt his chest swelling with love for both of them until he could hardly breathe._

" _Let's make another one," Legolas suddenly exclaimed, laughing inwardly, as he sprung up from the couch and threw his arms around both his wife and his daughter._

 _Faneth choked surprised, but peals of laughter soon filled the room once more even as Legolas' lips landed on the corner of her mouth and trained kisses down the length of her chin and neck._

" _Get away, you fiend!" Faneth giggled as she sprung away from his wandering mouth, her auburn curls bouncing around her blushing – but joyful – face. "Now don't you listen to your Ada, sweetling," she cooed secretly to Maliel, looking at Legolas with gleaming eyes. "I won't have him ruin you at such a young age."_

 _Maliel gurgled uncomprehendingly, her tiny fists grabbing hold of Faneth's long auburn hair and pulling it towards her mouth. Faneth watched adoringly as Maliel pulled the lock of hair to her mouth and chewed on it and her fist at the same time._

" _You're the sight of temptation, I hope you realize that," Legolas chuckled, startling Faneth as she had been too preoccupied to notice that he had walked all the way up to her. Without warning, Legolas scooped both her and Maliel into his arms, Maliel coming to rest on her mother's stomach. His daughter looked up at him with those huge eyes of hers, a slobbery lock of hair still held in her fist._

 _Faneth laughed as she wrapped the arm that wasn't holding Maliel steady around Legolas' neck and drew him down so she could plant a kiss upon his lips. Legolas smiled around her lips and ran his hand up and down her side, not being able to reach further because he was holding her under the back._

 _When Faneth released his lips once more, they smiled at each other and Legolas began walking to the bedroom, carrying his little family over the threshold and to the large bed in the middle of the room. He laid Faneth down with her head on the large, fluffy pillows before lying down partially on top of her. He was careful not to squash Maliel as he propped himself up on one elbow beside them, his legs pinning Faneth's down._

" _Don't you want a little sister, princess?" Legolas cooed to Maliel, who was lying on her mother's stomach. Maliel looked up at his voice and smiled toothlessly at him, not understanding a word of what he was saying._

" _See?" Legolas chuckled, caressing Maliel's rosy cheek and moving his gaze to Faneth. "How can we say no to that face?" Legolas moved so his cheek was pressing against Maliel's, their faces beside each other as he pouted endearingly at his wife._

 _Faneth laughed at his expression, her golden eyes dancing with amusement. "And, pray tell, why would it be a little sister and not a little brother?" she asked, playing along._

" _Because then I wouldn't be able to call you 'my girls'," Legolas grinned in response._

" _I see," Faneth chuckled. "And what would we call this little sister?"_

" _Aglarebeth!" Legolas chortled._

 _Immediately, Faneth burst out laughing. Legolas watched with amusement and love as Faneth shook with laughter, holding her stomach as it cramped. Maliel soon followed her mother's example and giggled innocently along, amused by the sounds her mother was making._

 _Several minutes and not a few deep breaths later, Faneth wiped the tears of amusement out of her eyes, a big smile still on her lips. "Glorious elleth? Valar, Legolas, what would possess you to give her such a name? I have seen several bad examples of you finding names, but this was the worst."_

" _Me?" Legolas said with mock indignation in his voice. "How dare you imply that I lack talent in that area?"_

" _Umm, I don't now," Faneth chuckled. "What did you call your dog when you were an elfling?"_

" _Wolf."_

" _And what animal did the dog resemble?"_

 _Legolas grinned cat-like. "A wolf."_

" _What did you call your horse?"_

" _Móre."_

" _Which means?"_

" _Blackness."_

" _And what color was the horse?"_

 _Legolas' smile grew. "Black."_

" _And what was your first suggestion that we should call Maliel?"_

" _Medlineth."_

" _Which means?"_

" _Bearlike female."_

" _And why?"_

" _Because when I saw you after coming back from the last visit to Rivendell – a week before you were due – your stomach growled so loudly that I was sure you were going to give birth to something with fur."_

 _Both of them were silent for a moment before collapsing once more in peals of laughter._

" _What would you call her then, O talented wife?" Legolas chuckled as he calmed down his hearty laughter._

 _Faneth giggles stilled completely but a smile remained on her lips as she gazed lovingly into his eyes. "Maliel was our first child," she spoke in a soft voice. "A gift that represents the love we hold for each other… If we some day we had another little girl then I would like to name her after your mother… I would have named her Emlin."_

"Emlin…" Legolas choked, unbidden tears welling up inside his eyes. "We would have named her Emlin."

Glorfindel felt his own throat burn at the onslaught of emotions that ripped through him. "You see her as having your mother's eyes…" he whispered hoarsely.

Legolas' eyes closed and he nodded jerkily, his breathing was slightly quicker than normal but as Glorfindel watched it seemed to slow down and become more controlled. Every intake lasted three seconds and every exhalation lasted the same.


	6. Help from friends, part two

**Chapter six – Help from friends, part two**

 _Legolas' eyes closed and he nodded jerkily, his breathing was slightly quicker than normal but as Glorfindel watched it seemed to slow down and become more controlled. Every intake lasted three seconds and every exhalation lasted the same._

"Come." Glorfindel said softly when Legolas seemed to have himself completely under control once more. Legolas was lying with closed eyes and Glorfindel knew that he had already been drained of everything that he had to give at that moment. Not wanting to push him any further, Glorfindel stood up and helped Legolas to his feet as well, supporting him as he stumbled.

"Where are we going?" Legolas asked tiredly as he opened his eyes.

"We are going back to Maliel and Elrohir's cottage," Glorfindel answered. "I think it's time to get some breakfast in you – you're too thin – and then you need to sleep some more, elfling."

"I do not wish to sleep."

"Nevertheless, you will do so."

Glorfindel knew that Legolas was beyond exhausted when he just nodded listlessly without further coaxing. He watched as Legolas' eyes fell upon his abandoned bow but stayed his hand when he reached down to pick it up. Legolas looked up at him puzzled.

"If I had my way," Glorfindel whispered, closing Legolas' hand with his and bending down to take the bow himself, "then your hands would never again have to touch a weapon… They would never again be forced to hold something that they had worked with until your blood stained the hilts…"

He also lifted the empty quiver from the ground and slung it over his shoulder, leaving the arrows for the next archery class to find. Even from the distance he could see that most of them had been damaged in some way by the violence with which they had been sent flying.

"Come," Glorfindel spoke softly and wrapped one arm around Legolas' shoulders as he led him back towards the cottage. As he walked, Glorfindel spotted a slight movement of one of the branches of a tree close to the archery range. What would have been dismissed as merely being the wind meant something entirely different in Glorfindel's eyes. Alfirin had been watching.

He should have known that the wood elf would never leave his charge unsupervised despite the fact that he had said to Elladan just the night before that he had needed a break and entrusted them to take care of Legolas.

Legolas barely paid any attention to the path they were taking, trustfully allowing Glorfindel to lead him. The world around him seemed hazy and it seemed only now that his tiredness truly assailed him. He felt cold. Shivers were slowly beginning to take over his body. Even though some part of his mind was hoping that Glorfindel wouldn't notice, he knew that that was unlikely, and true enough Glorfindel soon tightened his arm around his shoulders.

"Talk to me, Legolas," Glorfindel beseeched softly as they walked. "You've had some attacks by now… You must have noticed certain things that trigger a panicked reaction from your body?"

Legolas forced his mind out of its haze and thought about it before saying, "Crowds…"

Glorfindel nodded, "That's normal. What else?"

"Being cornered…" Legolas sighed. "My nightmares trigger them as well …blood. Loud noises…" He hesitated for a moment before adding quietly, "And darkness… Waking in the dark…"

Glorfindel frowned and watched as Legolas' hand unconsciously strayed to the point under his collarbone where he knew the remnants of the horrid brand still stained his chest. His heart clenched when he remembered how that human scum had enslaved his friend and locked him in total darkness for days on end.

"I thought your memories of that had faded somewhat…" Glorfindel whispered.

Legolas laughed a bitter laugh, the sound making Glorfindel cringe. "My memories never fade," Legolas chuckled darkly, his eyes full of pain. "It is the way of elves, is it not? To remember every day as if it was just yesterday?"

Glorfindel tightened his hold on Legolas and clenched his jaw.

"Forgive me…" Legolas whispered after a moment, his voice holding none of its previous bitterness only exhaustion.

"There's nothing to forgive," Glorfindel responded softly and kissed the top of Legolas' head.

Legolas seemed to experience the rest of the walk as though he was seeing it through a haze until he was standing before Maliel and Elrohir's door. The door immediately opened to let them in and Legolas found himself on the receiving end of one Maliel's worried rants as she hauled him in and deposited him carefully on the couch in their living area. Her words seemed to lose all meaning even as they left her mouth and he found himself just staring uncomprehendingly at her.

"Legolas. …Legolas. Legolas!"

A demanding voice cut through the haze that surrounded him and he blinked, suddenly finding himself looking straight into the grey eyes of Elrond Peredhil. The Master of Imladris was kneeling beside the couch he was sitting in, with one had on his forearm.

Where had Maliel gone?

He looked up and saw Maliel standing with her back to him, enclosed in Elrohir's arms. She seemed to be shaking…

"Elrond, he has some wounds on his forearm." Glorfindel's voice quickly disbanded the rest of the fog around his mind and he found the world returning to normal around him. "Will you please take care of them while I find some warmer clothes for him. You have some woolen tunics, don't you Elrohir?"

"They're in my closet," Elrohir answered. "I have some socks as well. Take a blanket, too."

"Maliel," Legolas whispered softly, ignoring the way Elrond had taken hold of his wrist and was currently dealing with the scratches. The last thing he had wanted to do was worry his daughter, to bring back the memories of having to watch her mother succumb to grief. "Maliel, I'm all right."

Maliel had drawn back from Elrohir the moment he had whispered her name. He could see glistening tracks where tears had rolled down her cheeks. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.

Legolas closed his eyes in response.

"You're not all right, Ada," Maliel said, her voice warning him about making any protests. "You're far from all right …but we're going to get you better." She drew back and looked at him with burning, blue eyes. "I'm going to make you some food. You're going to eat it and then you're going back to bed."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked over to the kitchen, already finding bread, cheese, fruit, slivers of ham, and other delicacies.

"I advise you against ever handling a weapon again when you are as angry as I think you must have been to cause such mistreatment to your forearm," Elrond said calmly, as he wrapped a piece of bandage that Elrohir had found for him around Legolas' arm. "The cuts will not require stitches, the bruising, however, will get worse than it is already. Try to rest it for the next few days. I'll bring a salve for you to rub into it twice a day."

"It's fine." Legolas murmured unconcerned, not even glancing at his arm. He had never given much thought to such injuries. "…I have let larger wounds go without treatment."

"Not in my realm," Elrond just short of growled.

Legolas blinked at the anger he saw in Elrond's eyes, not understanding the healer's reaction. To him the injury was nothing worth mentioning. A twinge of panic seemed to roll through him but it seemed that his body was too tired to act upon it.

Elrond took a deep breath, swallowing his anger when he saw the confusion in Legolas' eyes. "I would not have you be in pain if I know that there is something I can do about it, no matter how insignificant you deem the injury. Promise me that you will do as I ask."

"…As you wish," Legolas yielded.

At that moment, Glorfindel came out of Elrohir and Maliel's bedroom with his arms laden with clothes and blankets and Legolas soon found himself being bundled up in as much clothes as possible. Glorfindel pulled a woolen tunic over the nightshirt Legolas was already wearing and wrapped a scarf around his neck. In addition to this, he tugged of his boots and pulled a thick pair of socks over his feet, lifting them onto the couch so he was sitting sideways. Finally Glorfindel wrapped not one, but two blankets loosely around him.

Legolas was not himself aware of how pitifully small he seemed, swamped in Elrohir's clothes and swathed in blankets.

"I feel ridiculous," Legolas said, the scarf muffling his voice. "Be grateful that you are my friend Glorfindel or you would have never gotten away with manhandling me like that."

It escaped no ones notice that Legolas didn't argue more, instead he seemed to sink into the warmth that the blankets and scarf provided until he was only visible from the nose up. He let his head rest against the back of the couch and closed his eyes tiredly, briefly opening them when Glorfindel sat down on the couch beside him and pulled his feet from their position and onto his lap, making sure that they were still covered by the blankets.

Elrohir sat down in one of the armchairs that were placed opposite the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. There was an expression of worry on his face that was only mirrored in that of his father as Elrond sat down on the edge of the couch, beside Legolas.

The healer placed one of his hands upon Legolas' brow, a frown immediately appearing on his brow. He didn't say anything but rather reached down and drew the scarf up over his ears.

"Does he have a fever?" Elrohir asked softly.

"A slight one," Elrond answered. "It's probably due to the stress your body is experiencing, Legolas. It should disappear with sufficient rest."

Legolas mumbled something into the scarf that sounded both affirmative and dismissive at the same time.

"You can rest after you've eaten," Maliel said firmly as she walked over and placed a large tray on Legolas' lap. She leaned against the back of the couch and brushed her hand over Legolas' silvery-white hair. "Wake up, Ada…" she whispered, regret plain in her voice.

"I am awake," Legolas answered, his voice muffled. Slowly, his sapphire blue eyes blinked open and he smiled wearily to his daughter. When his eyes landed on the tray of food on his lap, they widened.

Maliel had made a large sandwich with ham and cheese as well as lettuce and vegetables. Other than that, she had made a big bowl with strawberries, grapes, and blueberries, washed an apple, and placed a sweet cinnamon bun on a second plate. There was also a glass of milk and a steaming mug of tea.

"Maliel… I…" The words turned to ash in his mouth, as he was sure that the food would soon do as well.

"Just try your best," his daughter said softly, needing no more than a glance at her father's form to know that he had not eaten much of anything for a while. "Eat a little bit of everything." She paused before adding, "For me."

Those last two words were like a knife in his gut, reminding him of just how far he had allowed himself to slide all the while lying to himself by saying that he was trying his best.

Swallowing thickly, he moved his arms out from under the blankets and took hold of the sandwich. Slowly, he managed to force himself through bite after bite even if it turned to sawdust in his mouth.

As he ate, he could hear the others talking quietly around him but didn't feel that he had the energy to join the conversation. He was trapped in his own universe, sluggishly forcing food from his mouth to his stomach, even though he felt that he might choke…

By the time he had eaten no more than half the sandwich, he was already experiencing fullness and felt his heart sink in response. Swallowing thickly, he placed it back on the plate and picked up one of the strawberries instead, holding it between two fingers and eating it in the smallest of bites before picking up the next.

A difficulty arose, though, as he picked up the apple. Already being full, the apple seemed so large as he held it in his hand. His hand was almost weighed down by its weight and he could not for the life of him see where he should take the first bite… It seemed silly that such a small thing would be able to pull him off balance …but it did. Even if he took one bite he knew already that he would be unable to finish the apple… Why should he spoil it then?

He would ruin that red, matt surface… Destroy. Obliterate.

His heart beat.

Suddenly a hand covered his and he jerked his head up in shock. Elrond eyes seemed to emit sadness as they looked into his. The healer sat down on the edge of the couch without a word and took the apple from his hand. As Elrond raised his other hand, Legolas saw that he was holding a knife. This he used effortlessly to cut the apple into smaller pieces and place them in the bowl that held the berries.

"Sometimes it's the smallest things that seem insurmountable," Elrond whispered softly when he was done and Legolas knew that the words had only been meant for his ears. He placed his hand upon Legolas' cheek. "Whether you believe me or not… I believe that you're doing well, elfling. And I know that you're trying very hard."

Legolas' throat tightened painfully, and before he could figure out how to respond, Elrond had already moved back to his chair. Swallowing thickly, Legolas picked up a piece of the apple and took a bit of it. Like every other piece of food it felt strange in his mouth, but for some reason he could taste the crisp sweetness of the fruit where everything else had turned to ash.

His mind blanked out completely as he ate more of the apple as well as some grapes. For some reason the food began to taste of something as he sat surrounded by family and friends, their voices sounding soothing to his ears. To his great horror tears welled up inside his eyes and slipped down his cheeks as he picked up the cinnamon bun and took a bite, its warm and comforting taste filling his mouth.

Valar… he must have been more tired than he realized…

The next thing he knew, his arms were full of Maliel, who had rushed from the seat the moment his tears had been spilt. He wrapped his arms around her in return, burying his face in her shoulder. As he felt someone remove the tray from his lap, Maliel came to rest more heavily against his chest.

"Let it go, Ada," she whispered into his ear. "If you never allow yourself to cry then everything will just build up inside your chest as I'm sure it has been building up for years already…"

Valar… Her voice sounded just like Faneth's…

Tears welled up in his eyes once more and he found himself beginning to tremble as they spilled over and rolled down his cheeks, before being caught in the fabric of Maliel's dress. He clenched his teeth and swallowed against the lump in his throat that made it difficult for him to breathe.

More tears slipped down his cheeks but his crying was just as silent as his suffering… Nonetheless, it continued until he had nothing more to spend, until he was emotionally drained and leaning limply against his daughter's shoulder, his hands loosening their tight grip.

"Ada?" Maliel whispered worriedly.

Legolas allowed his eyes to slip closed, a tired sigh escaping his lips. He seemed at loss for words to answer his daughter so he settled for, "…I'm tired, Maliel."

Maliel drew back and cupped his wet cheeks before pressing a kiss against his forehead. "I know…" she responded softly. Legolas reopened his eyes halfway when she pressed the mug of tea into his hands. "Drink this and then you can go to bed. …It's one of Ecphen's mixtures so there's something in it to help you sleep."

"Like that will be necessary," Glorfindel smiled sadly, patting Legolas' ankles.

"Hopefully it will keep the nightmares at bay and lessen your headache," Maliel said, arching an eyebrow at Glorfindel.

"He has said nothing of a headache," Glorfindel commented, scowling at Legolas.

Maliel turned back to her father and placed a thumb on a slight crease between his eyebrows before moving it down to his tense jaw. "I have lived with him long enough to be able to read the signs that he has a headache," she said. "He always gets a small furrow between his eyebrows, and he clenches his teeth badly enough to worsen it."

Legolas huffed, but sipped at the tea without protest.

"I will remember that," Glorfindel promised.

At that moment, there were two small cries from the nursery, and Elrohir and Maliel's attentions were instantly diverted. Both of them got to their feet and walked into the room, already cooing to the two babies.

They were inside for a few minutes, no doubt changing and dressing the twins, before they came into the room once more, carrying a baby each. Maliel smiled to her father before sitting down in one of the armchairs and holding the twin to her chest, barring her breast and tenderly beginning to feed him.

Elrohir walked over to the couch and sat down on the edge beside Legolas, holding the other twin. Immediately, Legolas' attention was away from the mug in his hands and upon he baby, his eyes widening his wonder. When he reached out and touched the rosy cheek, he instantly recognized the tiny fëa and knew that it was Naruvir whom Elrohir was holding.

"He's a bit fussy because he's hungry, and it is big brother's turn to get first. Aren't you, angel?" Elrohir spoke softly, smiling down at Naruvir as he wriggled in his arms, his lips pouting slightly. Elrohir chuckled and looked up at Legolas, noticing that he held absolutely none of his friend's attention as it was all directed at Naruvir. "If you wish then you can hold when you're finished with the tea."

Somehow registering those words, Legolas drained the tea in a manner of seconds and held out his hands for Naruvir. Elrohir laughed heartily and placed him in Legolas' arms, making sure that he had a firm grip on him.

Almost immediately, Naruvir stilled in Legolas' arms as he soaked up his grandfather's calm energy. He looked up at him with disinterested grey eyes and a yawn spread his lips as lingering tiredness made itself known, tears welling up in his silver eyes in response.

Legolas chuckled softly and wiped the drops of liquid off Naruvir's cheeks when fluttering blinking caused them to roll down his temples. It was interesting how different the twins already were. Caladel seemed to act on every emotion that he had, whereas Naruvir was more passive and calm, less likely to both smile and cry.

"Good morning," Legolas whispered softly to Naruvir.

The baby blinked tiredly and then got distracted by the many colors of the scarf that Legolas had wrapped around his neck. Staring interested at it, Naruvir reached out and grabbed at the fabric. Legolas smiled tenderly at the action, leaning closer so Naruvir had more access to the scarf. Immediately, the tiny fists got a secure grip on it and he yanked insistently at it.

Legolas chuckled when one end of the scarf was pulled away from his neck. He reached up, untangled the rest from neck, and held one end out for Naruvir to take. Immediately, his grandson latched onto the end of the scarf, and – despite Elrohir's groan – he did nothing to stop Naruvir as he put the fringes at the end into his mouth.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to wait a little while more for food," Legolas said tiredly, a tender and warm smile playing upon his lips. When Naruvir frowned and pulled the fringes out of his mouth once more, crinkling his little nose, Legolas added, "I don't think that it tastes that good either. After all, who knows where Ro has had it last…"

To his great horror, Legolas could feel his strength waning by the second, almost as if his body was going numb. Words seemed to be difficult to form and every sound once more sounded as though they were being said from the end of a very long tunnel. His arms were shaking under the weight of his grandson and he knew that soon he would lose his grip.

"Ro…" he started and found that no other words were necessary as Elrohir immediately reached out and took Naruvir from his arms, probably having anticipated that it would happen.

"It's all right, Legolas," Elrohir spoke softly, briefly placing the back of his hand against his friend's forehead to check his fever. "Don't fight against the drugs in your system."

Quite against his will, Legolas' eyes slipped shut and he could only feel as both Elrohir and Glorfindel got up from the couch.

"I'm going to stay with him. Do you want me to take him to my rooms?" Glorfindel asked softly.

"No," Elrohir answered. "We want him here while he gets back on his feet. If you help then you're just as welcome, I know that Legolas has always entrusted things to you that he felt he could tell no one else."

"Is that all right? You also have the babies to look after."

"Ro and I have already talked about it, Glorfindel," Maliel responded. "We're not so tired that we cannot handle having both you and Ada here as well. …I don't want to leave him…"

There was silence for a moment and then Glorfindel said, "Elrond, I would like to take a leave of absence."

"Take all the time you need," Elrond responded without hesitation. "Imladris is under no threat, and Erestor and I are capable of handling your absence. I'll ask Elladan to take over your military obligations, training and organizing the guards and the like."

"Thank you," Glorfindel said, relief in his voice.

The voices faded even more and he was unable to figure out what was being said. Exhaustion and malnutrition along with the drugs spread a dark blanket over his senses, and he found himself falling asleep on the couch, only waking slightly when Glorfindel reached down and lifted him into his arms, blankets and everything.

"…'m so'ry…" Legolas mumbled indistinctly as Glorfindel carried him through the cottage, morning light streaming through the windows.

"Hush," Glorfindel said softly and opened the door to the guestroom.

He laid the more or less sleeping elf in his arms gently on the bed after pulling down the covers. Afterwards, he took the two blankets off Legolas but left the woolen tunic and socks, knowing that – despite his fever – Legolas was still chilled.

He pulled up the covers once more and covered Legolas to the chin, the fair head already lying upon the pristine white pillow.

The color only made Legolas look paler.

Glorfindel turned and walked over to the windows in the room. For a moment, he paused and looked out into the morning, watching as the light of Arnor shone over the rolling valleys of Imladris, coloring the waterfalls yellow, blue, and orange as they reflected the sky. For a moment, he closed his eyes and inhaled the morning air deeply, and then he drew the curtains before the windows, before returning to Legolas.

He stepped out of his boots and his outer tunic before sliding into the bed beside Legolas, taking the younger elf's hand in his and holding it tightly.

O

At first Glorfindel wasn't sure what had woken him but then he remembered where he was and whom he was with. He reached out and felt the space beside him; the room was completely dark so it was clear that it was in the middle of the night. The place beside him was empty but he could still feel warmth in the mattress and the covers.

" _Talk to me, Legolas," Glorfindel beseeched softly as they walked. "You've had some attacks by now… You must have noticed certain things that trigger a panicked reaction from your body?"_

 _Legolas forced his mind out of its haze and thought about it before saying, "Crowds…"_

 _Glorfindel nodded, "That's normal. What else?"_

" _Being cornered…" Legolas sighed. "My nightmares trigger them as well …blood. Loud noises…" He hesitated for a moment before adding quietly, "And darkness… Waking in the dark…"_

Damn it…

Glorfindel immediately flew out of the bed, not bothering to put his tunic or boots on. He had planned on staying awake and looking after Legolas, but when evening had fallen and his friend's sleep was still peaceful he had thought that the drugs would stop all nightmares.

He had been wrong.

Glorfindel opening the door to the hallway and stepped out, immediately hearing sounds coming from the bathroom across the hall. He walked over to the door and pushed it open. The light of the moon bathed the room in a silvery glow and he was able to see Legolas standing with his back to him by the sink, furiously scrubbing his hands under the running water.

For a moment, he watched his friend, noting the way that the back of his tunic was sticking to his skin because of sweat and the tenseness of his shoulders. Then he walked over to the sink, coming up beside Legolas.

It seemed as though Legolas didn't even notice him… Widened and slightly panicked sapphire eyes were staring at his hands as he rubbed them viciously under the water. It was almost like Legolas saw something else than reality.

"Legolas," Glorfindel said softly.

Legolas didn't acknowledge his presence only continued his frantic scrubbing.

"Legolas," Glorfindel repeated louder, reaching out and placing his hand over Legolas'.

Immediately, Legolas startled and his eyes jerked to his.

"There is no blood on your hands…" Glorfindel whispered with sudden understanding, drawing Legolas' hands out from the sink and taking one in each of his hands, studying them sadly while he held them out for Legolas to see. There were scratch marks over the surface that Legolas himself had made without even noticing in his desperate attempt to remove whatever he had seen staining them.

"These hands are clean."

Legolas swallowed thickly at that and after a moment he whispered hoarsely, his face pale, "Are you sure…?"

"I am sure." Glorfindel squeezed Legolas' hands tightly for a moment before brushing his thumb up and down his palm. He was forced to take a deep breath to push down his sadness. "Do you believe me?"

For a short while, Legolas continued to stare down at his hands but then slowly he raised his gaze, looking at him with tears in his blue eyes. "I believe you…"

Glorfindel smiled gently and pressed a kiss against Legolas' forehead before taking a towel and drying off their hands. Afterwards, he wetted the towel a bit and used it to gently wash the sweat from Legolas' face, smiling as his friend closed his eyes and leaned into the damp towel.

"Take off your shirts," Glorfindel then said in a soft voice. "I suppose that it was stupid of me to let you sleep in an undershirt _and_ a woolen tunic of Elrohir's."

Glorfindel watched as Legolas sluggishly started to remove the access layers but soon stepped in to help him. When Legolas' chest was finally bared, Glorfindel moved his gaze sadly along the map of scars that marred his friend. He had seen it multiple times already, but it never failed to cause him pain.

The worst were the white lines that ran over his wrists, because even though it had never been said with words, Glorfindel knew that they had been self-inflicted… knew that Legolas had been in so much pain that he had picked up a knife and drawn rivers of blood to try and make it stop.

The necklace upon which Faneth's engagement ring was placed was still hanging around Legolas' neck but a small, amber stone had been added to the chain. There was no doubt that the color was the same as Faneth's eyes had been and he felt a pang of grief burn through his chest when looking at it. He pulled himself away from it quickly, though, and forced himself to focus on Legolas.

Glorfindel wiped the towel over Legolas' chest and arms and moved behind him to do the same to his back. The only place he left alone was his forearm, which was still wrapped in bandages. Colorful bruising was slowly beginning to inch over the line of white cloth, spreading outwards.

"Wait here." Glorfindel said when he was done.

He walked from the bathroom and into the room beside it, opening the door as soundlessly as possible. As he stepped inside, he could see the outline of Maliel and Elrohir lying together on the bed, Elrohir's arm around her waist and her head on his shoulder.

Not wanting to disturb them, Glorfindel turned to the wooden dresser and slid out one of the drawers. Sifting through it, he soon found a soft, light blue undershirt of Elrohir's. Closing the drawer once more, he took the shirt and walked back to the bathroom.

Legolas had slumped down on the edge of the tub when he came in, looking like nothing more than a shadow of himself. The nightmare still seemed to linger in Legolas' eyes and he continued to look down at his hands, as if not believing that they were clean.

"Here," Glorfindel spoke gently and kneeled before Legolas to help him into the clean shirt. "We'll have to get some clothes made for you since you're staying for a while and since I haven't seen a saddlebag then I don't suppose you've brought anything yourself."

"I think Alfirin has it somewhere," Legolas whispered tiredly.

"Then we best let him keep it," Glorfindel responded with a wry smile. "I have not yet had the pleasure of coming between a wood elf and his bounty and I wouldn't mind if it stayed that way."

Legolas chuckled but Glorfindel could hear no joy in it, only emptiness.

"Come with me."

Glorfindel stood up and held his hand out to Legolas. When Legolas took it, he led him out of the bathroom, through the hall, and towards the guest room once more. At the door Legolas stopped and balked, pulling at his hand to get it out of Glorfindel's grasp.

He turned and looked into Legolas' widened eyes. "Trust me," he said, nothing more.

Legolas continued to look at him with widened eyes, breathing heavily through the mouth. Glorfindel watched the struggle inside his eyes, until Legolas shut them tightly, turning his face away. It seemed as though every muscle in his body had gone rigid almost like he was straining against something with all of his might. Then, after a while, he nodded jerkily.

Glorfindel squeezed Legolas' hand encouragingly before beginning to lead him into the black room. Legolas followed him so slowly that he might as well have been dragging a large stone behind him, his hand grasping his so tightly that he was surprised his bones hadn't broken yet.

Having stayed in the room before, Glorfindel knew where everything was despite the darkness. He led Legolas carefully over to the bed and guided him down to sit on it. Afterwards, he made to move away from Legolas to light a candle, but he had barely turned before Legolas' hands hand shot out and grabbed his shirt tightly. What really made Glorfindel freeze, however, was the violent shaking of those hands.

Immediately, Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Legolas' shaking form, listening worriedly to his hitched breathing. "It's all right," Glorfindel whispered. "We will work through this… I will not leave you. I think this is enough for one night, though… Why don't you keep your hold on my tunic and then I'll light a candle on the bedside table?"

It took a while, but slowly Legolas let go of him enough for him to turn to the bedside table and grabble after the matchbox. The second he lit one matches, Legolas released a hiccupped breath and his violent shaking stilled to a mild trembling. Glorfindel held the light against the wick of the bedside candle and a soft glow spread over the room.

Blowing out the match, Glorfindel turned to Legolas once more and saw that his friend's eyes were fixed unblinkingly at the source of light, desperately clinging to it.

"Legolas," Glorfindel whispered and kneeled before Legolas, grasping his arms. "Look at me please…" Legolas startled at his voice but some time went by before he was able to wrestle his eyes away from the candle. When finally he had his attention, Glorfindel continued softly, "You did good, elfling. You did beautifully…"

Legolas choked out a sob and shook his head. "That was pathetic…" he choked and looked away, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

"That was not pathetic," Glorfindel responded with a small grimace. "You followed me inside. You were able to control your panic. The first time Elrond asked me to follow him close to a burning fireplace I panicked halfway there and in a desperate attempt to get away I slugged him so hard that he was knocked unconscious before scuttling into a corner of the room and rocking back and forth for almost half an hour before he finally regained consciousness."

Legolas stared at him for a few moments, the red color slowly disappearing from his cheeks and his eyes showing shock. "You slugged Elrond…? _The_ Elrond?"

"He went down like a girl," Glorfindel answered stoically.

A moment passed in silence, but then chuckles began to leave both Legolas and Glorfindel's lips until they were both laughing wholeheartedly. The sound immediately banished the remaining darkness in the room and Legolas' trembling stilled completely.

Several minutes afterwards when their laughter had faded to smiles, Glorfindel reached out and brushed his hand gently over Legolas' hair, causing the Prince to close his eyes. "See?" Glorfindel whispered softly. "Maybe the darkness isn't so bad after all… It seems that all it takes to light up even the darkest of places is one candle and a friend."

Legolas snorted, "It isn't talking to a friend in candlelight that frightens me."

"No, it is not." Glorfindel responded. "But we'll work on that, together. Perhaps in time you will only need to remember the little things you can do to take power away from the darkness around you. Sauron wouldn't have seemed nearly as frightening if we had been able to just light a single candle and he would run off screaming."

This earned another round of soft laughter from Legolas and Glorfindel's smile brightened at the sound of it. He wished that he could make Legolas laugh every minute of every day. He wished that he could take away all of his sorrow and kick it to the end of Middle Earth.

Sometimes, however, battles had to be won before happiness could be enjoyed.

"Legolas," Glorfindel said, his voice suddenly serious once more. Legolas' chuckles stilled and the smile upon his lips slowly faded at his tone. "What did you dream?"

Legolas' eyes darkened at the reminder. For a while he just looked at Glorfindel without saying anything but then he lifted his hand towards Glorfindel's temple. Before it could make contact, though, Glorfindel reached up and grasped it.

"No," he said softly, lowering Legolas' hand and massaging it with his. "I want you to tell me, Legolas. It's when we speak about something that we allow ourselves to process what has happened. I let you show me last time because now I have an understanding of the reoccurring scene. What was different this time?"

Legolas continued to look into his eyes for a while, his brows slightly furrowed with a mixture of frustration and pain. A couple of times he opened and closed his mouth but no words passed his lips. After some time, he swallowed thickly and he closed his eyes briefly before bowing his head and averting his gaze.

"Legolas," Glorfindel said. He placed his fingers under Legolas' chin and raised his head once more, forcing Legolas to meet his eyes. "I'm here to help you… I _want_ to help you. _Trust_ me."

Legolas' eyes became pained at his words but nonetheless he nodded jerkily. This time Glorfindel allowed him to avert his gaze but kept a tight hold on his hands.

"I… I was back in the sea of blood…"

And so Legolas told him everything, every small detail of the dream that had torn him up so badly. At first he spoke slowly and hesitantly, lowering his voice as though he didn't want Glorfindel to hear them, but gradually the tale seemed to become easier until he was almost stumbling over the words in his haste to share them.

He poured words from his mouth with desperation in his eyes; desperation to know that it hadn't been his fault, desperation to hear that Glorfindel could help him, …desperation to know that no matter what he said and what had happened, Glorfindel wouldn't turn aside.

And afterwards, for the first time in years, he woke without having had another nightmare…

And so they established a routine. Nightmare, wake up, talk about it, no nightmare.


	7. The bitterness of farewells

**Chapter seven – The bitterness of farewells**

 _The year 3021 of the Third Age_

Legolas sat upon the cushioned window seat and looked out upon the grounds around the Last Homely House. Even from behind the comforts of the partially stained glass and the wall he leaned against, he could feel the chill from the outside. Snow lay as a blanket over Rivendell after the coldest winter since he had moved into Maliel and Elrohir's little cottage, the rising sun casting a golden hue upon it.

Winter had come to Rivendell…

He could not help but think that the Hidden Valley would soon be no more. Many citizens had left for the Grey Havens throughout the two years he had been here. So many that the Last Homely House and the homes around it stood more than half empty, and even more had plans of leaving as soon as the snow thawed.

"Legolas."

He turned his head and saw Elrond striding down the corridor towards him, his burgundy robes swirling about his legs as he walked. The ancient Lord seemed to become more weary and old as the days passed, the lines on his face deepening and his shoulders - once so proud - stooping. Legolas returned the smile that Elrond sent him.

"Have you been to see Glorfindel?" Elrond asked him as he sat down beside him on the window seat, also looking out on the white landscape.

"I have," Legolas answered calmly and then smiled. "Erestor burst in after an hour looking desperate and promptly Glorfindel was whisked off to chop wood for the kitchens."

"How did you manage to avoid being given the same job?" Elrond chuckled.

"I don't think Erestor even noticed me before he was out of the door again," Legolas smiled. "I'm surprised that he can still keep the household up and running as he has with so few elves."

"He is resourceful," Elrond replied and changed his gaze from the scene outside to Legolas, noting that the Prince was wearing a sleeping tunic and only a pair of damp socks on his feet. "How are you coping without Glorfindel at the cottage?"

"It's been all right," Legolas said softly, turning his eyes to Elrond as well. "I'm sorry to have kept him as long as I have…"

"Stop right there," Elrond commanded softly, reaching out to place his palm briefly against Legolas' cheek. "I don't want to hear any apologies from you. You have nothing to be sorry for. Glorfindel wanted to be there just as much as you wanted him to be with you."

For a moment, Legolas gazed upon Elrond but then nodded. He inhaled deeply and moved his gaze back to the snowy landscape, his breath fogging the glass as he breathed out.

"Now how are you truly doing?" the healer asked.

"Even after years you still don't trust me fully," Legolas smiled ruefully. "I wasn't lying to you when I said that I was doing all right… I still only have nightmares a couple of times a week and I haven't had an attack in months, none that I couldn't control at least. Don't you have Maliel, Elrohir, and Glorfindel updating you on everything?"

Elrond chuckled sheepishly at that and answered, "Perhaps."

Silence hung between them for a moment until Elrond spoke once more, his voice changed with solemnness.

"Legolas…" Blue eyes locked on his. Elrond seemed to choke on the next words, as if not knowing how to express them. A moment passed, but then he sighed deeply and reached out to clasp Legolas' hands with his. "I know not which words can truthfully express feelings… When it comes to you I cannot help but feel wholly inadequate… I have failed you in every possible way…"

Legolas opened his mouth to protest but Elrond cut him off.

"Pray don't attempt to soothe me, don't mind my feelings, only listen to what I have to say, because I'm not the important one here, you are. At least let me get this conversation right…" Elrond smiled thinly. "I suppose you were trying to say that I haven't failed you? I did nothing to stop an elfling of no more than twenty summers from being sent back onto the battlefield even after seeing the scars that marred your back. I offered next to no help when your mother died and you were left with a small infant and an entire kingdom to care for."

Elrond took a deep breath before continuing. "I left you even after discovering that you were being abused by the one person you should never have to fear. I pushed you too far, believing arrogantly that I would know best. I left the burden of helping both my wife and my sons on your shoulders when you were already carrying too much weight. I even had the nerve to give up on you when you were fighting for both your own life and my sons'. …And-"

Elrond's voice cracked and he swallowed thickly to clear his throat before continuing in a slightly choked voice, "And I sent you after Sauron alone, once more leaning on your strength as if it would never have consequences. …And I watched as Faneth succumbed to grief and found myself incapable of doing anything to stop it…"

Legolas shuddered and turned away from Elrond, closing his eyes.

Elrond gave a choked sound and tightened his grip on Legolas' hands, lifting them and leaning his forehead against them. "From the bottom of my heart…" he whispered hoarse with emotion. "I could not be more sorry for what has happened. I… I do not even have the proper words to describe it… I do not want, nor deserve, your forgiveness Legolas, and I will not ask it of you, though I have no doubt that being who you are you would offer it readily. I will carry my burdens as they are…"

He took a shuddering breathed and then continued, "But I want you to know that if I could go back in time and take all of your burdens upon my shoulders, then I would… Seeing you slowly making progress has brought me more joy and relief than you can imagine… No matter if it's little things like having fewer nightmares or seeing you smile when you play with our grandsons… I am glad."

Elrond waited with baited breath for a while before Legolas answered softly, "We all have our own burdens to bear... You have lived through a lot as well and I would not have you placing my burdens upon those that already rest on your shoulders. I can see your weariness just as easily as I can feel my own… I cannot see how my life was much worse than yours…"

"I had a childhood," Elrond argued in a slightly choked voice. "First in Sirion and then once more with Maglor when the horrors of the massacre had faded… I was allowed to be relatively at peace with my twin for five hundred years before slowly entering the field of battle myself. Sure, I have seen enough war and participated in major battles, but this has not been my entire life… It has been but a small part when compared to you. I have not been purposely and physically tortured or abused, nor have I – when looking back – truly found myself alone and without anyone to lean on…

"But despite all of this… despite all of this I feel weary of the world. It leads me to conclude something that I think I have always known: you are stronger than I am, Legolas. If I had been through what you have then I think I would have sailed a long time ago…"

Legolas sighed heavily, "What good would I gain from going to Aman? …I understand why your heart pulls you there, Elrond… Celebrían is waiting for you on those shores." Legolas closed his eyes and turned away from the window, standing from the seat.

"You have the sea-longing, Legolas," Elrond said, standing up as well. "Do not think I haven't noticed the way your eyes sometimes glaze over when you gaze upon water."

Clenching his jaws, Legolas answered, "Perhaps I do… but there is nothing for me on Valinor… Maliel is here, Naruvir and Caladel are here, my father and brother are here; everyone except Hithel is here… Why should I leave?"

"You could have peace; you could heal… Faneth might as well be waiting for you already," Elrond said gently.

Legolas clenched his eyes shut. "Why would she be there?" he asked, his voice harsh with pain and bitterness. "None but Mandos decides who leaves his halls. Why should he release her? What has she done of importance to the Valar?"

"The Valar are merciful, Legolas," Elrond reasoned. "They-"

"Merciful?" Legolas spat. "I have not seen one merciful act from the Valar my entire life! They live in peace in Aman, they care nothing for the lives on Middle Earth. Why would they? The only ones they truly gain something from after releasing them from Mandos' Halls are people like Glorfindel."

"If that is your belief – that only greatness and usefulness is the reason the Valar grant new lives – then they might just as well release her because she is your wife!" Elrond said sharply.

Immediately, Legolas flinched as if he had been struck and shook his head sharply. "They care nothing for me."

The moment those words were out of his mouth, Legolas turned and began walking towards the exit.

"Where does this bitterness and anger come from, Legolas?" Elrond asked harshly as he followed Legolas, walking quickly to keep up. "I seem to remember an elfling who can to me with a broken wrist, begging for me to hide the injury because you wanted nothing more than peace. Where is that elfling?"

"He grew up," Legolas spoke with a rough voice.

"You know it's always been nagging me," Elrond said, almost jogging to keep up now, "the fact that you have never once blamed me or Galadriel or Gandalf for what happened to Faneth, and the fact that you seem to constantly disregard everything that you have done."

"Stop talking, Elrond," Legolas responded harshly.

"I won't," Elrond countered, "because I think you need to be slapped really hard. All this bitterness and anger and _blame_ , you've directed it all towards yourself, haven't you?"

Legolas made a choked noise at the back of his throat and ducked his head, rushing through the door to the outside and hurrying down one of the paths, not paying any heed to the fact that he was walking over snow in nothing but his socks. Elrond followed right behind him, not allowing him to escape.

"You truly don't believe that you deserve peace and happiness," Elrond continued unrelenting. "You feel that you are to blame for everything that has happened… You hate-"

"Shut up!" Legolas cried out, his hands flying up to cover his ears.

Elrond saw the moment when he was about to run and reached out, yanking him back by the elbow and barring his escape. They were standing in one of the gazebos on the grounds.

"You hate yourself," Elrond finished, forcing Legolas' hands away from his ears. "You hate the fact that you were helpless to stop what happened."

"It was _my fault_!" Legolas keened, his eyes dark with pain and guilt. "If only I had gone with her to Rivendell... If only I had _for once_ put my family before the needs of my people! If I had been there, then she wouldn't have lost the baby… She wouldn't have lost Emlin… And she would have been strong enough to wait for me to come back, even if it had taken a year for me to wake up! She would have been able to hold the promise about always placing our children in front of us… It was my fault! I did it! I-"

Elrond drew back his hand and slapped Legolas hard over the cheek, the sound ricocheting inside the gazebo in the silence that followed. Legolas' head was jerked to the side and his eyes had widened. For a moment there was no movement and then Elrond took hold of Legolas' elbow and led him over to the bench, sitting him down upon it.

Legolas' eyes were dazed and he followed his commands listlessly, staring into space.

"Now you listen to me, and you listen carefully," Elrond said sternly. "There was _nothing_ you could have done to stop what happened. Even if you had gone with Faneth to Rivendell then there would have been no difference to the outcome. Faneth was only just over two months pregnant when she arrived and that means that she would have been pregnant the entire time you were fighting Sauron and recovering thereafter."

Elrond kneeled before Legolas, holding his hands and looking into his eyes. Slowly the dazed look had faded from Legolas' blue depths, replaced by dark grief and despair. His whole attention was directed at Elrond.

There was a red mark spreading on his alabaster cheek.

"Faneth would have had to endure carrying a baby for five months while you were gone, not knowing whether you had survived or not. Neither she, nor the baby, would have been able to survive that. Even if Faneth hadn't miscarried on the way to Rivendell it still would have been beyond difficult for the baby and her to survive to full term," he stressed. " _Both_ parents are needed to nurture an elven baby."

Legolas released a shaky choke and leaned forward in the seat, taking his hands from Elrond's and using them to cover his mouth and nose while resting his elbows on his knees.

"Legolas…" Elrond pulled Legolas' head down so their foreheads were touching, closing his eyes. "There was _nothing_ you could have done. …I know that after everything you have been through, you have problems with trusting… but having the ability of foresight and my own faith in the Valar has taught me that everything happens for a reason, and sometimes the only thing you can do is to trust in that."

"I see no reasons for this…" Legolas choked.

Elrond thought for a moment and then spoke softly, "Perhaps if Faneth had been alive, you would have been home at the time when Gollum arrived in Mirkwood. Perhaps with your involvement he wouldn't have escaped and there would have been no need for an envoy from Mirkwood at the time of the council. If you had not been on the quest, would it then have failed? Instead of being free now, perhaps Sauron would truly have gained dominion over all life here on Middle Earth."

Elrond drew slightly back and they both opened their eyes to look at each other. Elrond then continued, "We can never know what would have happened if Faneth had lived. We can never change what happened in the past, nor know how it would have affected the future, we can only do the best that we can with the time that is given to us.

"You are here right now," Elrond said, placing his hand over Legolas' heart. "Your heart is beating beneath my hand at this very moment. All around you there are people who love you, and most important of all there are two little elflings, who adore you as much as their parents. They _love_ you. Do not hurt them by holding so much bitterness and hatred towards yourself. They deserve better. _You_ deserve better."

Legolas' eyes closed and he seemed to fall slightly together, tiredness and exhaustion dominating his features. Elrond could see that everything he had said was swirling around in the young elf's mind and knew that he needed time to think about it. After a few minutes of brushing his fingers soothingly through Legolas' hair and over his bruised cheek, he got to his feet once more.

"I know that you are very strong, Legolas," he whispered softly before beginning to walk away. "Stronger than you yourself believe… and I have faith in you."

Even as Elrond walked towards the house once more, Legolas could not wrap his tongue around any words of goodbye or thanks. He was numb. It was almost the same feeling as being punched in the gut and left winded in the grass. Every word that Elrond had said had stabbed relentlessly into his heart with their painful honesty…

He didn't know how long he sat there. Numb. Frozen in the wake of the words that had been said. Thoughts swirled in his head but nothing seemed to make sense. Even though Elrond's words rang with truth, it was as though his mind was fighting that realization. He seemed to both want to believe in Elrond's words and push them away at the same time.

"Granddaaaad!"

Two light and carefree, childish voices drifted through the wind, and Legolas' head immediately jerked up, his eyes latching upon the sight of Caladel and Naruvir rushing towards him. Both of them had been walking on either side of Maliel, holding her hands as they walked towards the gazebo, but the moment they saw him they ran from their mother. Their little legs scampered over the white snow, their arms held out towards him and smiles on both of their faces.

Legolas felt his throat tighten at the sight. They were so young… so innocent…

By instinct, his mind still numb, he got to his feet and moved towards them. If everything was all right then he should have been running towards them, returning their greeting with a smile on his face. He should have wrapped his arms around them and twirled them around in the air until they were squealing with laughter…

But everything was not all right.

Upon reaching the two elflings, Legolas dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around them, holding them tighter than he ever had. There were no words that could reach past the lump in his throat, his eyes burning.

Naruvir and Caladel babbled away in his embrace, their voices innocent and exited. Most of the words made little sense to him at the moment and the sentences were disjointed. Usually he wouldn't have had much issue understanding what they were saying but at the moment his numb mind only picked up clear words like Nana, Ada, and snow.

Valar, he loved them. He loved them so much…

How could he promise to protect them from evil, anger, and bitterness if he was the one exposing them to it? Elrond was right… They deserved better. They deserved more from him…

Trembles ran up and down his body and he could do nothing to stop hot tears from falling down his cheeks, as he struggled to breathe regularly.

He had to do better.

Naruvir and Caladel had at last realized that something was wrong and they drew back slightly from his tight embrace, looking up at him with huge silver eyes. Their shoulder length auburn hair had been braided away from their faces, showing their slightly flushed cheeks. A snowflake landed on Naruvir's dark eyelashes and he blinked repeatedly in response.

As one, Naruvir and Caladel reached up and clapped their hands gently against his cheeks. "Magic tears," they spoke innocently just as they had heard their mother say to them many times. "Wash 'way pain…"

A choked sob immediately escaped from Legolas' lips and he tightened his hold on them once more, crying harder. Naruvir and Caladel's arms slipped around him and he felt their small fists grabbing onto his nightshirt.

"I'm sorry…" Legolas choked. "I'm so sorry…"

At that moment, something warm was draped over him and his head jerked up to see Maliel kneeling in front of them, smiling gently to him before clasping the cloak around neck. Another sob escaped him but ended in a hiccup of surprise when Caladel burst into tears in his arms.

Maliel gave a soft, amused chuckle before reaching out and taking Caladel from Legolas' arms, rocking him gently in her arms as he wrapped his small arms around her neck. Legolas took a shuddering breath to try and calm his emotions before looking down at Naruvir, his heart aching at the sight of tears rolling soundlessly down his youngest grandson's cheeks.

Lifting Naruvir further up into his lap, he cuddled him and pressed a kiss against his auburn hair, trying in vain to stop the tears that coursed down his own cheeks. When a warm hand was placed against his wet cheek, Legolas looked up into his daughter's concerned eyes.

"Are you all right?" she mouthed silently.

Legolas gave a curt nod to the question, still unable to formulate anything. Maliel looked at him skeptically but nodded anyway, brushing her thumb over his tears before drawing her hand back once more. He knew that he wouldn't be bale to escape conversation later.

She turned to Naruvir and pressed a kiss against his forehead before doing the same to Caladel. "It's all right," she said gently. "Your grandfather is just upset because he ran all the way here even though he had forgotten both his shoes and his cloak." Caladel and Naruvir's teary silver eyes where locked on hers as she reached into her bag and lifted a pair of soft skin boots out. "How about you two help give him these?"

Both twins nodded and sniffled as they took the boots their mother gave them and used the next many moments wrestling the shoes onto Legolas' feet, stubbornly refusing help and saying 'No!' every time help was offered.

By the time they were finished the boots were on backwards and the shoelaces were a mess, but he couldn't have cared less.

He had to do better.

O

 _September_

"Ada."

Legolas looked up and saw Maliel walking towards the front steps, upon which he was sitting, carrying a sleeping twin in each arm. With a smile, he accepted Caladel from Maliel before she sat down on the steps beside him.

"They're still sleeping?" Legolas asked gently as placed Caladel on his lap, so he was leaning against his chest, sleeping sweetly.

"It's a bit early for them to be up," she chuckled in a soft voice. "I only got them through breakfast before they started nodding off once more."

Horses were being brought into the courtyard before them, bathing in the light of the dawn. Otherwise it was quiet, most elves were still at home saying goodbye to friends and family and home.

"Where is Elrohir?" Legolas asked, looking down on Caladel and brushing a thumb lightly over his apple cheek. His grandson was completely relaxed in sleep, soft breaths escaping his slack lips. Maliel had bundled both twins up in cloaks and scarfs, Naruvir in blue and red, and Caladel in green and orange.

"Both him and Elladan are with Elrond," Maliel told him. "He wanted to talk with them privately."

Legolas nodded understandably. "It's difficult for him to leave them, just as difficult as it is for them to watch him go…" he said softly. "Knowing that Arwen will never join him only makes it worse."

"It is his time," Maliel said and took a shuddering breath, grounding herself. "He can not bear to be away from Celebrían any longer. …He is already weakening, sailing will give him peace that he can no longer find here."

Legolas looked up from Caladel and gazed into her eyes. She had already been looking at him and he had no trouble reading the sadness inside those sky blue eyes of hers.

Reaching out, he placed his palm comfortingly against her cheek. "I am not going to sail," he whispered. "Everything I need is right here. I will not leave these shores before you are ready to come with me, however long that may be." He paused for a moment. "Maliel, I-"

"You're planning on going to Ithilien," Maliel finished for him, reaching up to take his hand in hers. "Both Elrohir and I already know. …We've known for a while now. You're slowly getting better, but I've also noticed that you've taken to staring into space. I know that even here in Rivendell the memories that you made with Nana are hurting you… it will only get worse when Elrond leaves as well. Ithilien is a fresh start."

"Perceptive, aren't you? There is no doubt that you're my child." Legolas chuckled sadly, his voice slightly choked. "I'm sorry… I don't want to-"

"You aren't going to leave us," Maliel interrupted once more, smiling gently to him. For a moment they just looked at each other and then she continued, "Elrohir and I have talked with Elladan. After this group leaves then there will only be little more than a hundred citizens left in Rivendell."

Legolas felt his heart beginning to beat faster. He held on tighter to Caladel.

"Elladan feels capable of handling everything here, and he got a letter from Celeborn saying that he was planning on moving to Rivendell after a few years to be with his grandsons, since Galadriel is sailing with Elrond," Maliel squeezed his hand, her smile growing at her father's speechlessness. "We're coming with you, Ada. Me, Elrohir, Caladel, and Naruvir. Eventually, when Celeborn and the rest of the elves from Rivendell either sail or come to Ithilien, Elladan and Glorfindel will come as well."

Legolas found that no words could make it past his lips as he continued to look at his daughter. Once so little, Maliel now sat beside him with her own child in her lap, looking at him with eyes the exact same color as his had once been, now filled with understanding as well as her mother's stubbornness. She was no longer a little elfling. He could no longer place her in his lap and shield her from his troubles…

Even though he already felt his body relaxing at the prospect of Maliel, Elrohir, and the twins joining him in Ithilien, he could not stop guilt from coiling inside his stomach. Naruvir was lying completely relaxed on his mother's lap, his silver eyes half open and unfocussed and his hair still ruffled. The twins were utterly safe in the haven of Imladris… How could he expose them to danger by taking them with him? What did he have to offer them…? What could he-

He tensed his jaw and swallowed thickly as he recognized his destructive thoughts, ones that he had worked on since Elrond had confronted him about them. It was not easy and even now he could not stop his own insecurities from getting the better of him as he questioned her words.

"But-"

"No objections."

The soft voice made both Legolas and Maliel turn around. Elrohir walked out of the entrance to the Halls, his expression was solemn despite the small smile on his lips and there were traces of tears both in his eyes and upon his cheeks. Elrond and Elladan followed, talking softly to one another, Elrond's arm wrapped around the shoulders of his eldest. Both of them were in the same state as Elrohir.

Legolas and Maliel got to their feet as they walked out of the door, lifting Caladel and Naruvir into their arms. Elrohir went over to Maliel and rested his forehead against the side of her neck for a moment, his shoulders weighed down by the grief of saying farewell. Maliel pressed a kiss against his hair, but he soon took a deep breath and straightened once more, turning to Legolas.

"We want to come with you," Elrohir told him softly. "You should think that after not being allowed to leave our house for the better part of three years would convince you that we aren't going to let you go that easily. We want you to see Caladel and Naruvir grow up, and we want them to know you …for you have a lot that you can teach them and they love you almost as much as you love them…"

"And you wish to keep an eye on me…?" Legolas guessed with a mixture of amusement and sadness.

"That too," Elrohir admitted with a faint smile. "And you better get used to it."

The twin turned his gaze to Caladel, still sleeping peacefully in Legolas' arms. Gently, he ran his fingers over his son's auburn hair, set aflame by the rising sun, and brushed it behind his pointed ear. It seemed as though he was drawing comfort from the small action. Then he reached out and lifted Caladel from Legolas' arms, holding him tight and closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against the top of Caladel's head.

"Legolas."

Legolas raised his eyes and looked at Elrond, seeing that the Elven Lord had finished the conversation with his eldest son. Elladan was standing with his head down, looking at absolutely nothing. As Legolas watched, though, Elladan raised his head once more and looked towards his twin, his aura fluctuating slightly, as it tended to do when the two of them talked silently together.

Elrond stepped closer to Legolas, gazing upon him with eyes that were filled with both sadness and a sense of peace. He opened his mouth but closed it once more with a sigh. "It seems I have finally run out of words…"

Legolas smiled sadly. "It took a while for that to happen."

Elrond reached out and placed his hand at the back of Legolas' head, drawing him closer and pressing a fatherly kiss against his forehead. "It has been an honor, Legolas," he whispered. "A true honor. And I wish you all the joy in the world."

Legolas felt his throat tighten as he looked into the warm and wise eyes of the elf he had come to consider a second father. Elrond deserved this, deserved peace and to be reunited with Celebrían. He _knew_ that, but somehow his chest burned at the thought of losing someone else.

Involuntarily, his hands began to tremble lightly. He was no only losing Elrond… Galadriel was leaving as well. Bilbo was leaving. Frodo was leaving. Gandalf was leaving… He did not know why the thought of losing them filled him with panic. Somehow, he must have managed not to really think about it, but standing before Elrond now made everything crash inside of him in a way that frightened him.

He should be getting better… He should be able to handle something like this!

"Legolas?" Elrond asked concerned.

Legolas moved an extra step forward, knocking into Elrond and burying his face in his shoulder. Elrond stumbled back half a step before regaining his balance and wrapping his arms tightly around him, shushing him. Legolas felt strangely comforted by the familiar feeling of Elrond's fingers moving to take his – now elevated – pulse.

He should not be reacting the way he was… He was making this harder for Elrond. He should just take a deep breath, bury away his feelings like he had always been able to do in the past and then he should let go of Elrond and say farewell.

Legolas tightened his grip on Elrond.

It was pathetic.

The walls that he had built around his feelings, the ones he had spent thousands of years perfecting… had been smashed in a million pieces in a heartbeat when he had found out that Faneth had died. In the century following her death, he had tried to build them once more, had tried to glue the pieces of his soul back together against after being ruthlessly torn apart… but the once strong walls had become so brittle. His mental state was so brittle…

He was no longer whole.

Walls that had once brought him through his own mother's funeral without flinching had given way to ones that could not even allow him to see through Elrond's journey to the Havens…

"This is not a farewell, Legolas," Elrond suddenly whispered in a soft voice after a long pause. "We will see each other once more …when the day comes for you to follow the call of the sea. Both Celebrían and I will be there, waiting for you on the coastline. We expect to see that you've been taking care of yourself, but nonetheless Celebrían will mother you from the moment you step on to the beach, making sure that you eat enough…"

Elrond drew back slightly so he could look into Legolas dark, sapphire eyes, his chest tightening with worry when he saw the color. There were no tears in Legolas' eyes but he could see the fragileness in the deep sapphire depths, the cracks and tears just beneath the surface. Even though Legolas was doing better, Elrond knew that there was a long way to go and in moments of weakness he had sometimes found himself thinking that perhaps they were already too late, the damage too deep.

Out of the corner of his eye, Elrond could see Glorfindel moving on to the front steps. He had already said goodbye to his seneschal and dear friend and they had previously discussed what Legolas' reaction to this day was going to be and how to help him through it.

"I'm sorry," Legolas choked, angry and frustrated at himself for the worry he could see in Elrond's eyes.

Elrond could see him trying to strengthen his barriers without any success.

"There's nothing wrong about being upset, Greenleaf," Elrond whispered, using the childhood endearment in an attempt to soothe Legolas. "It only means that you care for me just as much as I care for you. …I could say 'thank you' and 'forgive me' a thousand times, but we have already been through all that, haven't we?"

Legolas nodded and gave a tight smile, his sadness plain as daylight.

Elrond returned the smile and placed his hand gently over Legolas' heart. "I love you both as a son and a friend, Legolas, and it has been an honor fight alongside you. May we meet again in the blessed realm."

Legolas swallowed thickly before echoing Elrond's stance, placing his hand over the Elven Lord's heart. "It has been an honor, father and friend," he whispered hoarsely. "May we meet again…"

Elrond smiled and placed one more kiss upon Legolas' brow before looking at Glorfindel, who then stepped up and wrapped his arm around Legolas.

"Come with me," Glorfindel told Legolas softly.

Confusion warring with relief appeared on Legolas' face, "But…"

"Go," Elrond said in a gentle tone. "From now on more citizens will begin to arrive and everything will the formal. I will not have some formal words become our last goodbye to each other… that has never defined our relationship. Go with Glorfindel for we have already said all that needs to be said and you do not need to watch as I ride out from this Haven for the last time."

Legolas swallowed thickly, but nodded. As Glorfindel began to lead him away, Legolas turned his head and said, "Say hello to Celebrían for me…"

"I shall," Elrond promised.

And so Legolas turned his eyes from the Elven Lord for the very last time, feeling almost frozen in time as he looked blindly upon the grass Glorfindel was leading him across. He said nothing as Glorfindel and him sat upon fallen red and orange leaves of the large oak tree that he had turned to for comfort many times.

It was only when the clear and solemn ringing of a single trumpet was carried by the wind, signaling that the Lord had left the Last Homely House for the last time, never to return, that Legolas' stupor collapsed and Glorfindel's arms were immediately around him as sobs were wrenched from his overly tight chest.


	8. Snowy mountains

**Chapter eight – Snowy mountains**

Only two weeks after the departure of its Lord, Rivendell found itself saying goodbye to more people, some only briefly but most were gone to stay. Glorfindel upon Asfaloth rode first out of the Mountain pass that led into the Hidden Valley, followed by Elrohir who had his two and a half year old elfling, Naruvir, sitting before him on his brown mare.

Maliel rode behind her husband, holding Caladel and answering his never ending range of questions with a patient and amused smile upon her lips. The same smile was mirrored on Legolas' lips as he rode behind her, listening to his grandsons' wonder at the new world around them. Despite of his smile, though, Elladan – who was at the very back of the procession – could clearly see the slump of weariness in his friend's shoulders.

The weeks following Elrond's departure, Glorfindel had moved back into Elrohir and Maliel's cottage as Legolas reacted to the loss by returning to having nightmares every night. For the first time, it had not been possible to keep it from the twins and they seemed to have taken it upon themselves to make sure that their grandfather was all right. Legolas had offered to move into the main house but they were having none of it.

In the end, Maliel and Elrohir had decided to move with Legolas to Ithilien as soon as possible, which was the reason for their leaving now. Elladan and Glorfindel were going to escort them to their new home and planned on visiting Aragorn and Arwen before returning to Rivendell.

Throughout the day, they rode over the rolling plains that separated the valley of Imladris from the High Pass of the Misty Mountains, the first obstacle on their journey. They held numerous breaks along the way to allow Caladel and Naruvir to stretch their short legs. The twins used the time to explore the plains, either on their own or dragging Maliel, Elrohir, or Legolas along.

Despite the joy of having two carefree and curious elflings to distract them from the road, Legolas could not shake the instincts that had been driven into his body through thousands of years, instincts that urged him to be wary of the road and constantly look for dangers. By now parties from Gonder, Rohan, Mirkwood, Lothlorien, and Rivendell had swept through Middle Earth, cleansing out any orcs, goblins, or the like, in their path.

It seemed that their work had been thorough for they met none on their path and by the time the sun was beginning to set the reached the foot of the mountain range. The path that led up to the High pass stretched out before them, an orange cast to the grey stone. They stopped their horses.

Caladel and Naruvir looked at the path with widened eyes.

"Awe we going up there?" Naruvir asked innocently with widened eyes.

Legolas chuckled and looked down upon his grandson. After the last break he had taken his turn to ride with Naruvir, having taken Caladel earlier in the day. "Aye," he answered. "We are going up there." He paused for a moment and Naruvir's widened eyes turned to his, a hint of awe in his silver eyes. "Just not yet," he added with a smile. "We will camp here tonight and continue tomorrow."

"You've taken this road the most times, Legolas," Glorfindel said, turning Asfaloth to look at Legolas with eyes that were both gentle and serious. "Where is the best place to set up camp?"

"The times I've stopped here I've set up camp against that outcrop over there." Legolas nodded towards a formation of rocks on the plain a short way north of the pathway. "The rocks prevent anything in the mountains from seeing the camp and there is clear view of the plains," he spoke, his voice strangely distant. "I've found a stream about a mile up into the mountains directly behind it. If you take Naruvir then I scout the outcrop to see if there are any signs of recent activity."

"No!"

Legolas startled at the outburst that came from nearly everyone in the group. As he blinked, his eyes lost their strategic, cold look and instead returned to the present. At first he looked at them in surprise but then this softened to understanding.

A short silence followed the outburst until Glorfindel cleared his throat and said, "I'll check it out. Stay here and wait for my signal."

With those words, Glorfindel turned Asfaloth towards the outcrop and spurred the stallion forward. Legolas watched him go with a sigh.

"Is it dang'rous?" Naruvir asked softly, his head tilting up so he could look into his grandfather's eyes.

Legolas could have sworn than in that instant, he saw something in Naruvir's eyes that made him seem a bit older than he was; a hint of understanding. At that moment, however, Caladel exclaimed gleefully in the background, "Nana, we go too!" (to which Maliel only chuckled amused), and in a blink the glimmer was gone once more and the only thing visible in Naruvir's eyes was complete and utter faith in Legolas.

"No…" Legolas told the elfling, it felt as though he was trying to convince his body of the same thing at the same time. "No, it isn't. It was a long time ago, but everything looks very peaceful now, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Naruvir answered, giving him a toothy smile, his silver eyes sparkling. "As'loth and Glorf awe safe."

Legolas choked back his laughter but couldn't stop the gleeful smile from forming on his lips. Knowing how Glorfindel hated the shortening of his name, Legolas made no attempt whatsoever in encouraging the twins to stop. Nevertheless, he corrected, "As'loth and Glorf _are_ safe."

Naruvir's sweet face twisted into a grimace but he obediently strained himself. "Awrrr," he spoke.

"Arrrr," Legolas helped.

"Arrrrrrr," Naruvir echoed. "Arrrr. Arre. Are. As'loth and Glorf _are_ safe."

With a smile and a nod, Legolas reached out to ruffle Naruvir's coppery hair.

Glorfindel's whistle was carried with the wind at that moment and they lifted their heads to look towards the outcrop, seeing Glorfindel waving them towards him.

"See?" Legolas smiled gently to his grandson. "I told you that it was safe."

All four of them rode to the gathering of rocks. As they reached it Elladan and Elrohir dismounted and stepped over to Legolas and Maliel's horses to help Caladel and Naruvir down, allowing Legolas and Maliel to descend as well.

"There are no signs of any intruders," Glorfindel said from where he was standing. He smiled and motioned for them to follow him. "There is a slight hollow over here that will shelter us from the wind." He led them over to the western side of the outcrop, still hidden from eyes in the mountains and giving a view of the plains.

Caladel and Naruvir moved together once they entered the hollow, joining hands. Immediately, Caladel began dragging his twin brother eagerly into the hollow, exploring every wall and crevice. Naruvir pouted lightly over the treatment but soon joined in his brother's excitement as they began babbling to each other in the special, made-up language that only they understood.

Legolas watched them with a smile. Caladel and Naruvir were smaller than human children would be at their age, their abilities, however, advanced at a faster rate. By now the twins were able to speak coherently if they put their minds to it, and they were already beginning to learn how to read. Their minds craved knowledge, a thirst that was innate in all of the Eldar. Caladel and Naruvir did not, as of yet, have the grace of their forebears, but it would not be long before they developed it. They no longer wobbled along, hanging on to one of their hands, but walked and ran freely.

"We should set up camp," Glorfindel said, cutting through Legolas' musings. "I'll get a fire started."

"I'll prepare dinner," Maliel offered with a smile.

"And I'll set up the bedrolls," Elrohir pronounced, already moving towards where they had placed their packs.

It was funny how things were done by Rivendell elves. In Mirkwood there would always be a clear leader, who would hand out all these assignments. In Imladris – even though it was an actual patrol – it was always up to the individuals to offer to do tasks. He had always found it a bit disorganized.

"I'll tend to our lovely horses," Elladan quipped from where he was standing, patting Asfaloth on the shoulder only to have him snort disdainfully at him and attempt to follow Glorfindel into the hollow. Elladan intercepted the proud stallion and pulled it in the right direction like it was nothing more than an unruly child who knew no better – no doubt an attempt to annoy the horse even more.

Legolas chuckled amused and looked around to see everyone working the tasks they had chosen like those were the only things that needed being done. From the way they had been acting all day, he did not doubt that they thought they had made sure that there was no work left for him to do, giving him the opportunity to relax or play with the twins.

Tough luck.

Legolas unstrapped his bow and quiver from Arod's saddle, swinging the quiver onto his back and tightening the buckle with a practiced movement. "I'm going into the mountains to get some more water," he said, his voice completely innocent.

Maliel, Glorfindel, Elrohir, and Elladan all froze and looked at him, their eyes becoming pained at the sight of the bow in his hands.

He loved them all, but he hated that they thought him so fragile.

Elrohir stood up. "There's no need for that," he said. "I'll go in your stead. These bedrolls can wait for-"

"Stop," Legolas interrupted softly, but firmly, setting his bow on the ground. "Just stop. I know what you're all trying to do and I appreciate the sentiment, I really do, but you do not need to shelter me like I was a child. Out of all of us I am the one who has the most experience in surviving in the wild, and I am the one who knows exactly where the water source is."

"But Legolas-" Glorfindel began.

"No buts," Legolas told him. "In Mirkwood we did not hide wounds from fellow patrolmen, nor did we exaggerate our abilities, because lying about such things was what would get your companions killed. If one elf was suddenly not able to fulfill the role he had been assigned – whether it be because of wounds or incompetence – then it would harm the whole group. Honesty builds trust.

"I know what you're trying to do," Legolas continued. "But it is harming our ability to reach our full potential as a group. If suddenly we get attacked and you spend crucial resources attempting to make sure that I don't have to fight – only for the sake of 'sparing' me – then you're increasing the risks to the team as a whole. I am fully capable of telling you myself when there is something I am not able to do, and I will never volunteer to do something I am not fully confident that I will be able to complete."

He reached down to where he had dumped his saddlebag and pulled his out a smaller leather backpack, placing his water skin inside. He then walked to the others and said, "Give me your water skins."

His daughter looked up at him with tears in her sky blue eyes, but he didn't make a move to comfort her. This was something that was necessary for her to learn, the faster the better. They were in the wilderness at this very moment; it was not a game.

"You've held that speech many times, haven't you?" Elladan sighed as he placed his water skin in the backpack.

"I've been leading patrols for more than a millennium, Elladan," Legolas responded, "I've held that speech more time than I can count."

He got the water skins from Maliel and the twins, but as he turned to Glorfindel he saw that the elf had not moved. His friend was looking at him with eyes that shone with seriousness. Legolas gazed at him for a moment and then swung his backpack onto one shoulder, using his freed hands to cup Glorfindel's cheeks.

"I'll be careful," Legolas promised and placed a brotherly kiss upon Glorfindel's forehead. "I've been up that path hundreds of times, I know it like the back of my hand. …I can do this."

Glorfindel searched his eyes intently, but in the end he nodded in acceptance. "I trust you," he said.

Legolas smiled in response and nodded in return before taking Glorfindel's water skin as well as a small pot that they had brought. He placed those in his backpack and hefted it onto his back.

"I'll be back in half an hour," Legolas told them.

"Granddad!"

Legolas turned just in time to catch Naruvir and Caladel as they threw themselves at him from one of the rocks. He grunted at the impact, but then skipped a couple of steps away from the rocks and twirled he twins around quickly in his arms, making their legs and hair lift. Naruvir and Caladel laughed gleefully as they clung to him.

When Legolas finally stopped, he hefted them further up into his arms and smiled at their dizziness.

"Where are you going?"

"Where awe you going?"

Caladel and Naruvir asked at the exact same time once they had caught their breaths, looking up at him with shining grey eyes.

"I'm going to get some water so that you two little monsters don't have to go thirsty today either," Legolas said matter-of-factly. "While I'm gone I need you two to watch over camp and make sure that Glorf and Dan don't do anything stupid, can you do that?"

"Yes!" They promised.

With a smile, Legolas placed them back onto the rock they had jumped from. "Be careful and don't leave the camp. Listen to your Ada and Nana." He placed a kiss on both of their foreheads and flicked their nosed before moving back over to where Arod was standing to pick up his bow. Barely a moment after he started walking around the outcrop, he turned and pointed at the twins. "And if you're going to climb on the rocks then stay off the high ones!"

Two pouting faces met his command but he just smiled and continued his trek towards the mountain range. As he walked away, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and placed it upon his bow, drawing the string halfway so he was ready at a moment's notice.

The plains were silent around him, but he felt his alertness heightening more and more the farther he moved from the campsite. The years spent in Rivendell hadn't been wasted though, as he immediately began modifying his breathing to keep his attentiveness from developing to panic. The amount of talking he had done with Glorfindel had made his thoughts and his panic feel less threatening than before.

Soon, he was climbing onto the rocky ground of the mountains. Unlike the path that led up to the High Pass, this path was barely trodden. The ground was uneven and rocky, moving steeply into the mountains and often making it necessary for Legolas to lay down his bow to climb over large rocks and boulders.

He kept going, keeping a trained eye on his surroundings for any signs of danger, and moved on until he was standing beside the trickling stream that led ice water down from the mountains. The stream ran out from beside a couple of rocks and snaked it way along a narrow crevice that was barely visible and couldn't be accessed from any other point, as it disappeared into the stone once more.

He had found it in a moment of desperation countless of years earlier. At that moment, the stream had been even smaller than it was now and he had been forced to very nearly lick the water off the stone. Now, the water gurgled out of the hole between the two rocks, enlarged by the unnaturally warm autumn melting the ice and snow.

Taking off his backpack, Legolas quickly filled the water skins he had brought. His sapphire blue eyes weren't focused on his task, however, they continued to search his surroundings. His heightened state of alert made him grab his bow and whirl around the instant he heard a small noise behind him only to come face to face with a small grey rabbit.

For a single instant his instincts told him to loosen the arrow, to procure food for his group. Then the small rabbit twitched its nose and he looked into its soulful, black eyes. Its grey fur fluffed out around its cheeks and neck, and its long ears stood up straight upon his head.

He couldn't kill it… couldn't stand the thought of another innocent beings blood on his hands…

Legolas slackened the bow and lowered it, suddenly feeling exhaustion well up inside him. With a shuddering breath, he slowly knelt down on the rocks, stretching his arm out in a non-threatening way towards the small rabbit. As the small creature tried to move away from his hand, Legolas was able to see the blood that smeared its right hind leg.

Legolas' eyes softened at the revelation before he closed them to center himself. Concentrating, he accessed the power inside him and sent calm energy out towards the injured rabbit. When he had done this, he opened his eyes once more and whispered, "Tolo hí. Úvan nahtatyë…" [Come here. I will not hurt you…]

The little nose twitched once more, but then the rabbit began moving towards him with small, broken hops because of its wounded leg. When it was close enough, Legolas patted its head, causing its ears to fall flat against his head and neck, and then he gently scooped it up into his arms. The rabbit was small enough to rest securely on the palm of his hand, no doubt little more than a baby.

"What happened to you?" Legolas muttered to himself as he reached out and felt the injured leg with his fingers. Immediately, the rabbit started screeching discontentedly, attempting to run away in his arms even though he held it securely. "Sívë," Legolas shushed it softly as he continued his examination. [Peace]

There seemed to be a fracture as well as a surface wound, and the injury seemed to be a couple of days old at least. It probably hadn't been able to go back to wherever it came from and had been stuck in the rocky mountains were there was no vegetation to eat.

Legolas stopped his examination and petted the rabbit, shushing it and sending it calm energy until it was completely docile in his arms.

"We'll just have to take you with us, won't we?" Legolas sighed.

Having made up his mind, he stood up with the rabbit in his arms and turned to the stream where he had left his backpack. Reaching inside, he took out the small pot and gently laid the rabbit inside, on top of the already filled water skins, before closing the bag lightly and carefully pulling it onto his back.

Afterwards, he filled the pot with water, picked up his bow once more, and began making his way back to camp. The only thing to report from the way back was a moment where some pebbles had shifted beneath his feet and threatened to make his tumble off the path, otherwise the way was uneventful and he sound found himself upon the plain once more.

Everything seemed peaceful as he rounded the outcrop, the sun was low in the sky and sent warm, golden rays into the hollow where camp had been set up in his absence. The horses had been released to graze, Maliel was sitting by the fire preparing dinner, Glorfindel was standing at the mouth of the hollow, and Elladan and Elrohir were entertaining the twins with adventurous stories.

"You're late," Glorfindel smiled to him, as he neared the camp.

"Yes, well… I met a little friend up there," Legolas responded and smiled secretly to Glorfindel before walking past him and into the camp, making the warrior follow him. Everyone else looked up as he entered and smiled in greeting.

"An orc?" Glorfindel asked softly as he followed him to the fireplace.

Legolas placed the pot of water on the edge of the flames for Maliel to use for dinner. Maliel looked up at them sharply at Glorfindel's words.

"Nothing quite so dangerous," Legolas replied and carefully took off his backpack. He moved to the side of the fireplace where Elladan, Elrohir, Caladel, and Naruvir were sitting and sat down by them, Glorfindel and Maliel watching him curiously as well.

"Come here, Caladel, Naruvir," Legolas said softly and gestured for them to come to him, while he unloosened the fastenings of his backpack. The two twins scuttled over to him and watched him with excited grey eyes. "You'll have to be a little quiet so you don't scare it. Can you do that?"

The twins nodded eagerly, their attention fixated on the backpack. Legolas chuckled softly and undid the last clasp before pulling back the flap and reaching into the bag, gently lifting out the small grey rabbit. It briefly struggled against his hold, but settled down as he held it securely against his chest.

The twins' eyes widened with wonder as they looked upon the small creature. When Naruvir reached out to pet it, Legolas said, "Be gentle. Don't touch its leg."

For a moment Naruvir looked uncertain, but at his grandfather's nod he reached up and patted the rabbit on the head, touching its long ears. "It's so soft…" he breathed awed. Caladel soon reached out as well and touched the fur on its back, running his fingers up and down it.

"Where did you find it?" Elrohir asked softly, smiling at Legolas' obvious care for the little rabbit.

Legolas looked up from watching Caladel and Naruvir pet the rabbit. "It was trapped in the mountains, by the stream. I don't think it could leave because its leg is injured. Will you look at it Elrohir?"

"Of course," Elrohir answered and moved forward. "Boys, would you move back a little?"

Naruvir and Caladel scuttled away and watched anxiously as their father examined the rabbit's leg, both of them leaning against Elrohir's sides.

"Elladan, would you get my pack? And a cup of hot water?" Elrohir asked without looking up. Elladan nodded in response and got to his feet moving away to get the things Elrohir needed.

Time went by as Maliel fixed dinner and Elrohir worked on the rabbit's hind leg, splinting and bandaging it. Because the rabbit tried continually to bite off the bandages and the splint, Legolas soon found himself sitting on his bedroll by the fire with a bowl of stew, holding the rabbit. It had been wrapped in a blanket to keep it from reaching its leg and fed both water and grass.

Caladel and Naruvir sat on either side of him, eating the stew enthusiastically while watching the rabbit. From the intensity with which they were looking at it, one would have thought that they were waiting for it to sprout another head or turn into a snarling wolf.

Barely had that thought passed his mind before the rabbit twitched its nose and immediately the twins startled on either side of him with identical gasps of surprise. Legolas chuckled softly at their reaction and took another sip of the stew. Despite the fact that he wasn't looking, he could feel Glorfindel, Maliel, Elrohir, and Elladan's eyes on him as he ate, making sure that he wasn't leaving the food untouched.

During the years he had been in Rivendell, the four of them and Elrond seemed to have made plans between themselves, and as a result he found that he had never been allowed to skip a meal or even eat by himself, because they would always mysteriously pop up the moment it was time to eat. It appeared that they had made a schedule over who made sure he ate on which days, and he was soon able to anticipate who was coming to monitor him.

The first while he hadn't been able to eat much, but as time went by he steadily regained the weight that he had lost.

When they had all finished dinner, Legolas asked the twins, "What shall we name it, then?"

"Awe we going to keep it?" Naruvir asked with large, pleading eyes. Caladel copied his brother's look.

"Are we going to keep it," Legolas reminded him softly.

Naruvir's nose crinkled. " _Are_ we going to keep him?" he emended.

"Yes, we are." Legolas answered with a smile.

"Gandalf!" Caladel said enthusiastically, practically bouncing up and down. "We call it Gandalf!"

Legolas' bell-like laughter flittered merrily through the air at that statement and the other's were hard pressed not to join him. When his laughter faded to chuckles, Legolas held up the rabbit before him and said, "Well it does have a sort of mulish look to it, doesn't it?"

Elrohir couldn't hold his laughter back after that statement, despite the fact that he got a friendly slap over the head from his twin. When he had gotten his laughter under enough control to remove his hands from his face, he looked at his sons once more. Caladel was looking slightly downcast and Naruvir was scowling at him.

With a sheepish smile, Elrohir got to his feet and walked across Glorfindel's bedroll to get to Legolas', where his sons were. Without warning, he reached down and scooped Caladel into his arms, throwing him into the air before holding him to his chest. He was rewarded with a gleeful squeal.

"I love you," Elrohir said to his firstborn, kissing him on the forehead. "I'm sure that Gandalf would have loved to have a rabbit named after him, but I seem to have forgotten to tell you that it's a girl rabbit."

"It is?" Caladel asked sweetly, his previous despondency forgotten.

"She is," Elrohir confirmed. "But I think the name will have to wait because I do believe it's time for two little elflings to go to bed." He looked down at Naruvir and winked to him, before setting Caladel down. "Now why don't you go to your Nana, Caladel?"

Once Caladel had scampered off, Elrohir reached down and lifted Naruvir into his arms, making sure that he felt no less loved than his twin. His youngest son's grey eyes looked trustingly into his, a calm air around him.

"Are you ready to visit the lands of dreams, Naru?" Elrohir asked with a smile.

"I am," Naruvir answered earnestly. A smile appeared on his lips as Elrohir kissed him on the forehead in response, but then he turned to Legolas and asked innocently, "Can she sleep b'tween us?"

A fond smile grew upon Legolas' lips. "Of course she can. I'll bring her over once you're settled."

With that settled, Legolas watched as Elrohir and Maliel readied the twins for bed, laughing and smiling together as especially Caladel gabbled about everything that had happened that day. Elrohir and Maliel would share indulgent glances over the twins' heads and worked together effortlessly as they performed the task, both of them occasionally bestowing a kiss upon the other or their sons.

As happy as he was for his daughter's happiness, he could not stop his heart from growing heavy as he watched them. In the wake of the tiredness the day had provided, he did not attempt to smother his feelings but rather to ignore them as he gazed down on the dozing rabbit in his arms, holding it to his chest. With one hand he gently caressed it between the ears and over the furry cheeks.

"Legolas?" Glorfindel asked softly, coming to his side.

He looked up at the golden haired warrior and met his worried gaze with barely concealed tiredness. "I'm all right," he responded softly. "I'm just tired."

Glorfindel nodded and kneeled down beside him, checking his forehead briefly for a fever before running his fingers through his silvery-white hair. "Perhaps you should go to sleep now. We'll take the watches."

Knowing that it was futile to protest, Legolas nodded reluctantly and then – after hesitating for a moment – lifted the rabbit up towards Glorfindel. "Will you take her to the twins?"

Glorfindel glanced at the rabbit, but seemed more interested in what lay behind the threadbare barriers in Legolas' sapphire eyes. "Perhaps…" he said slowly, his voice soft, "it would be better if you kept her with you. I'm sure that the twins would not rob you of her if they could see what I do."

"And that is?" Legolas whispered.

Glorfindel gazed down at the small rabbit and brushed his hand gently over her long ears. "That she brings you comfort," he answered. "And that you look at though you will fall apart if you let her go…"

Legolas flinched at the words, and for some reason he himself did not understand he thrust the rabbit into Glorfindel's arms and said hoarsely, "Take her to them."

Glorfindel seemed startled but Legolas could do nothing to explain it to him. At length, Glorfindel nodded and got to his feet once more, bearing the rabbit over to where Caladel and Naruvir were sleeping between their parents.

A wave over tiredness washed over Legolas, and he laid down on his bedroll, pulling his cloak around him. As soon as he was horizontal, he found himself slowly losing touch with the waking world, at last falling asleep to the sound of Maliel and Elrohir's voices as they told a bedtime story to Naruvir and Caladel.

It seemed that he had barely closed his eyes before falling into one of his nightmares, immediately plunging straight into the blood and the pain and the guilt only to come awake with a sharp gasp, jerking upright.

The night had darkened slightly but not enough for the grown elves of the group to have gone to bed yet, and he immediately found their eyes on him as he struggled to pull himself away from the dream. His undershirt clung uncomfortably to his skin from sweat.

It seemed as though the stress of the day had affected him more than he thought.

Something plopped into his lap and settled against his chest. Legolas jerked in surprise but soon found himself relaxing as he looked into the sleepy and drooping eyes of Naruvir as he leaned his head against him. While he watched Naruvir's eyes lost their focus as he snuggled against him, one of his small hands reaching out to grab his tunic as though he was afraid that they would be forced apart.

A sense of calmness overtook him as he sat with his grandson in his arms, chasing away the remnants of the nightmare. Tiredness washed over him once more and he lowered both himself and Naruvir down on the bedroll, cuddling his grandson to him.

Just before sleep took him away, he felt a blanket being spread gently over them.

O

Heavy and sluggish, he woke once more. Something warm was curled up against him and he could feel a blanket shielding him from the morning dew. All around him, he could hear the sounds of people moving about and getting ready for the day, but still couldn't find the energy to lift his heavy eyelids.

"Granddad…?" Naruvir whispered hushed against his neck.

"…Don't give us away…" Legolas muttered conspiratorially in response, his voice just as soft. He pulled Naruvir closer and finally opened his eyes to see Naruvir barely suppressing his chuckles. "They'll make us work…"

"Don't think we can't hear you, sluggards," Elladan's voice sounded drolly from just beside them. The chuckles that Naruvir had been holding back finally pealed through the air. Without warning the blanket was ripped off them and Legolas groaned at the bright sunlight that assaulted them, closing his eyes once more.

Whereas Caladel would probably have sprung out of his arms, proclaiming what a wonderful day it was before throwing himself at the nearest elf, Legolas felt as Naruvir reached up and placed his small hands against his cheeks. Opening his eyes, Legolas gazed into silver orbs of his youngest grandson.

Neither said a word, until Legolas then sat up, shifting Naruvir so he came to sit in his lap facing him. "I'm all right," Legolas said softly to his grandson.

He didn't get to say anything more because at that moment Caladel swept in and brightly wished the both of them good morning before whisking Naruvir away to see the rabbit.

Legolas likewise found himself being swept into a torrent of dressing, eating, packing up the camp, and finally getting the horses ready for another day of riding. The sun was still low in the sky when they began their journey into the mountains, towards the High Pass.

The first half of the pathway that led his upwards was wide enough for two horses to ride abreast, but as they moved higher and the paths grew narrower, they dismounted and walked before their horses, leading them securely.

O

"I spy something white!" Caladel said enthusiastically from where he was skipping beside Legolas. Naruvir was sitting upon his father's shoulders at the front of the procession.

"Hmm…" Legolas pondered seriously. "What could this thing be? Surely it cannot be the clouds? Nay the day is sunny and the sky is blue." Caladel was practically bouncing with joy. "But perhaps then it is the tip of your nose?" Caladel giggled and shook his head so his auburn locks spun around his head. Legolas slapped himself on the forehead. "Of course not! Your nose is red! May I not have a hint?"

Caladel laughed and shook his head once more.

Legolas turned his eyes to the white landscape all around him, smiling. "Oh! I get it! It's my hair then? Is that what this is about? Caladel, I've told you so many times that my hair isn't white it's silver."

"No granddad!" Caladel protested. "It's the snow! The snow is white!"

"Good heavens, is it really?" Legolas asked, feigning shock and surprise. "No you must be mistaken. Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Caladel insisted with a bright smile.

"I suppose it does seem a bit white," Legolas said thoughtfully, looking at the thick layer of snow that covered the mountain sides around them and the path that they were walking on. "Do you believe then that we walk on a sea? A sea of white, churning and changing as the tides of the ocean, only the warm glow of the sun there to lead us on our quest."

Caladel nodded vigorously, looking up at Legolas with innocent grey eyes. "Where will it lead us?" he asked.

Legolas smiled. "To another world."

At that moment, Glorfindel and Elladan stopped at the front of the proceedings and spoke softly to each other before nodding. Glorfindel swung himself onto Asfaloth and said, "I'll ride ahead and make sure the path is clear. There could be snowdrifts that we have to force our way through. If I'm not back by the time you reach the cave then wait for me there."

With that the golden haired warrior rode down the path.

By noon they had reached the highest point of their journey and had begun moving downwards once more, so it would only be a matter of hours before their feet would once more touch the grass.

They moved onwards while Glorfindel was gone and reached the open stretch just before the bend the cave was situated by. The slope of the mountainsides around them was relatively soft and the snow glittered in the light of the falling sun. The wind was completely quiet as they moved over the narrow path in the snowy landscape, towards the natural stone bridge they had to pass under at the path's bend.

As they almost stood under this bridge, they heard a slight shifting of snow that immediately made their stomachs clench. Legolas and Elladan's eyes met each other briefly in horror, a moment where everything seemed to stand still, and then they were moving. Elladan pulled his horse along the path in frenzy, Elrohir doing the same and Maliel following instinctively without asking questions as the sounds of sliding snow became clearer. Legolas immediately grabbed Caladel's hand and pulled him into a run, following the others as the noise turned to roars and groans from up the mountain.

The first view of the cloud of snow came just as they reached the stone bridge, seeking its shelter. But just before they could release pent up breaths everything seemed to happen at once.

The rabbit broke free of Legolas' saddlebag – no doubt reacting to the panic around it – and immediately raced back across the path as quickly as its hind leg would allow. Forgetting the danger in response to the rabbit's flight, Caladel pulled his hand out of Legolas' before the Prince could tighten his grip and raced after the rabbit, giggling as he called out to it.

Legolas was not aware of a single thought that went through his mind at that moment and he acted on bare instinct as he tore desperately after his grandson, not aware of Maliel and Elrohir attempting to do the same behind him only to have Elladan pull them back, further away from the opening, Naruvir still on his father's shoulders.

Legolas raced over the path, not even daring to look up at the mass of snow that was pounding down towards him. The roaring filled his ears along with the screaming of Maliel and the curses from Elrohir.

"Caladel! Damn you, Elladan! LET ME GO! Release me! Caladel!"

Caladel reached the rabbit and lifted it up into his arms, turning around with a large smile only to have his grandfather throw himself at him, wrapping him tightly in his arms, the rabbit squished between them, just as a pure white wall of thunder crashed into both of them and sent them tumbling down the mountain with it, lost in a sea of white.

"CALADEL!" Maliel screamed.


	9. Lossë

_A/N: Sorry for the wait :) I would have published sooner but the chapter just kept getting longer. Thank you all for your reviews and your support!_

 **Chapter nine – Lossë**

Legolas desperately clutched Caladel to him as the wall of snow slammed into them and immediately the world turned to chaos. As he struggled to hold on to his grandson the sea of snow all around them was moving rapidly down the mountain, rolling them down into its depths. He felt the clasp of his cloak snap as his cloak was ripped from his throat by the powerful nature.

As they got deeper the weight that settled one top of them seemed to be crushing them, like a giant stone was resting upon their backs. Everything was dark. Legolas could just barely hear Caladel's whimpers and cries of fright over the roaring snow and plunged one of his arms outwards, clinging to Caladel with only one so he could use the other to shovel and plough their way towards the surface of the churning ocean of snow.

Kicking his legs in desperation, he felt almost as if he was swimming through the snow. The weight that crushed them seemed to lessen until finally he thrust his arm out of the snow, redoubling his efforts to reach the surface. As his head broke through the top layer of snow, the sun at first blinded him but then he was able to see the great, moving mass of snow that they were riding with, tearing trees up all around them.

The view only lasted a moment before they were forced under the snow once more. It pressed them from all sides, blocking the sunlight and closing around them like a cold tomb. Legolas struggled to breathe through the effort of pushing them ever towards the surface, nearly blind because of the snow.

Therefore, he didn't know something was about to happen until they were slammed against something the snow had dragged with it. A sharp pain erupted in the arm that still clung tightly to Caladel, but the pain was out of his mind instantly, replaced by fear as he felt Caladel jerk just before the cramped grip his grandson's little hands had previously had on his tunic slackened completely as Caladel went limp in his grip.

Legolas cried out in shock and fear, but couldn't do anything other than keep them close to the surface as whatever they had crashed into was dragged under them and away. His voice seemed to be swallowed by the roaring snow.

Caladel was like dead weight in his arms, but nothing could make him let go of his grandson. The arm that held Caladel was throbbing with pain, but Legolas ignored this and only held him tighter, pressing him against his chest, his fist holding Caladel's tunic so tightly that his nails were cutting into his palm and his fingers were cramping.

It seemed that the avalanche was finally slowly, so Legolas desperately clawed and kicked and fought his way to the surface, feeling the snow becoming tighter and tighter around him. He was almost hyperventilating with exertion and there were white spots flickering before his eyes as he finally broke the surface for the second time.

This time he wasn't pulled under once more because the avalanche wasn't churning as violently but, rather, slowing down. Kicking his legs and squirming, Legolas managed to wiggle his way further up until Caladel's head also broke the surface and he had his arms above.

At that moment, the snow around them finally slowed to a halt and settled like a boulder around him from chest down.

Everything was quiet.

Legolas gasped for air, squinting at the light of the slowly setting sun. He allowed himself barely a moment of rest before he immediately looked down at Caladel, drawing him slightly away from his chest. To his great surprise a grey rabbit immediately stuck its head out of a larger pocket in Caladel's tunic. The rabbit looked at him and twitched its nose before popping back into its refuge, perhaps due to the glare Legolas sent it.

Instantly, Legolas snapped his gaze back to Caladel, seeing his grandson's pasty complexion and closed eyes. Without his heart beating in his throat, Legolas placed his fingers against Caladel's pulse and leaned close to feel and hear if he was breathing. He sagged in relief when both seemed normal, only a little slowed.

Then he began searching Caladel for wounds and found a bleeding cut on the back of his head. As head wounds were wont, it was bleeding a lot, already wetting the auburn hair around it.

Unable to do anything properly while being stuck at the snow, Legolas wriggled and kicked and punched and clawed at his enclosure until it was loose enough to first lift Caladel out and then slide out himself. Once Caladel was lying on top of the snow, the rabbit jumped out of his pocket. Instead of jumping away, it huddled against Caladel's still form.

The moment Legolas was out, he hurried to his grandson and gently turned his head so he could access the wound. Hopelessness welled up inside him and he cursed himself for not being a proper healer. He had taken care of many head injuries in his life as a warrior but never on an elfling. He didn't even have any provisions…

Parting the hair around the wound, Legolas poked and prodded it gently until he was relatively sure that Caladel's skull hadn't been fractured. Then he scooped up a handful of snow and used it to clean and cool the wound as well as he could, hoping that it would soothe the swelling.

He could feel his heart racing inside his chest and felt the beginnings of panic as he looked out on the bare blanket of ice that they rested upon. He cursed himself for being so weak when he was Caladel's only hope and forced himself to take shuddering breaths to try and calm his body.

It was just so typical. Despite the churning masses of snow that they had just been pushed through, the tiny rabbit had survived. He probably should have just ceded and called it Gandalf, despite it being a female. He was sure that Gandalf had his feminine streaks as well, who would question a wizard if he suddenly put on tap shoes and a skirt and proclaimed that dancing the rainbow dance would cure the world – and especially one Peregrin Took – of stupidity and foolishness.

Legolas felt his panic slowly lessening and the world around him suddenly seemed clearer. Taking a deep breath, Legolas eyed his surroundings and found that he wasn't as lost as he had seemed. The mountains were familiar and although the High Pass where the others were was far from their reach, he knew of another path through the mountains.

The moment he thought of the others he remembered Maliel's panicked scream as they were torn away and instantly closed his eyes, throwing all of his power into his link with his daughter, strengthening and opening it.

 _Ada!_ Maliel's voice sounded choked, relieved, and on the verge of hysteria at the same time. _Ada, is Caladel with you?!_

 _I have him._ Legolas answered. _He hurt his head and is unconscious, but he's alive and he's with me._

 _Legolas?_ Elrohir's voice joined the link, his link with Maliel making it possible. _Legolas, is it possible for you to show images over this distance? Can you show me his wound?_

 _I can't._ Legolas responded guiltily. _It's difficult enough to remain a steady link as it is._

 _It's all right._ Elrohir said, calmness masking the underlying anxiousness in his voice. _It doesn't matter. As it is, you can't do anything over than bandage it. Cool it with snow if it swells, and make sure that Caladel stays warm. He-_ Elrohir's voice cracked. _He's still an elfling so he isn't as immune to cold and sickness as us, especially because he has a bit of human blood in him._

Legolas nodded vigorously in response.

 _Just take care of him, Ada._ Maliel pleaded choked.

 _Legolas, the pass has been blocked by snow._ Elrohir said. _We can't get to you and you're cut off from us as well._

 _It's all right I recognize this place._ Legolas answered. _There's another path I can take Caladel by. Elrohir, do you know the stone path? I think that I can get to it._

 _Have you taken it before?_ Elrohir asked worriedly. _It isn't the easiest path to walk._

 _It's the only choice I've got._ Legolas responded. _It exits the Misty Mountains a bit south of the High Pass but you have the horses so you'll probably get there before I do. …I have taken it once._

 _And how did that go?_

 _It could have gone better._ Before they could say anything, Legolas asked, _Are all of you all right?_

 _We're fine, Ada. Just please be careful. I-_

At that moment Legolas lost his grip on the fragile connection between them. With a sigh, he closed his eyes for a short while, exhausted. Then he took the halfway melted snow away from Caladel's wound and ripped off the bottom of his indigo tunic before wrapping it around the elfling's head.

Without pausing, Legolas loosened the neckline of his tunic and had started to pull it off when he felt a sharp pain from his left arm. Looking down, he saw that the sleeve of his tunic was bloody around his fore and upper arm. He sighed and let his eyes fall closed once more before drawing his head and right arm out of the tunic, allowing him to ease his left sleeve down.

Afterwards, he took off Caladel's cloak before gently dressing him in his tunic. It was so big on the elfling that it was more of a dress than a tunic, but it would keep him a bit warmer. He pulled the neckline as tight as he could so it wouldn't slip down Caladel's shoulders and tied a knot on the too long sleeves to keep the warmth inside and protect Caladel's hands from the cold. When this was done he wrapped his grandson in his cloak once more, pulling the hood up over his head.

Legolas shivered slightly as a cold wind swept over the snowy landscape they were stuck upon, but nevertheless pulled his undershirt off the same way he had his tunic. The fabric was stuck to his bloody arm and caused him no small discomfort as he pulled it off, at last revealing the wounds.

It seemed that his arm had taken some of the blow that had been meant for Caladel. There were a myriad of bruises collected around his forearm, wrist, and the middle of his upper arm, complete with deep scratches, some of which were bleeding enough to soak two layers of shirt.

He took that same approach as he had with Caladel's wound and cleaned the wounds as best he could with snow before making bandages with his undershirt and wrapping them around almost his entire arm. When this was done, he pulled on his light green undershirt once more.

He used a few moments taking in his surroundings, deciding which path to take, before turning his gaze to the rabbit that was still huddled against Caladel's side. Reaching out, he petted it soothingly until it had relaxed, and then he placed it once more in the pocket Caladel had hid it in. Perhaps it would keep them both warm.

He then hoisted Caladel gently into his arms, making sure that his grandson's head was jarred as little as possible by laying it carefully upon his shoulder. Then there was nothing more he could do but make his way over the snow and down to the path.

Just as he reached the side on the avalanche and was on his way down the steep slope of it to get to a platform in the mountain that gave him access to the stone path, Caladel let out a small whimper. Legolas froze for a second and looked piercingly at his grandson, but then continued down the slope, quickly but carefully. He wanted to get to steady ground before Caladel wake completely if that was possible.

"Caladel," Legolas called softly, making his voice completely calm even as he struggled to keep his footing. "Caladel, I need you to wake up for me, please… You are safe now. I have you. Everything is going to be all right."

The snow shifted slightly under his feet and he was forced to use his wounded arm to steady himself, causing pain to lace all the way up to his shoulder. Unintentionally, this action jarred Caladel and caused a pained moan to leave his lips.

"Shh," Legolas shushed soothingly. "I'm sorry… It's all right now."

Legolas wrapped both his arms around his grandson the moment he regained his balance, rocking Caladel gently for a moment before continuing down the slope. He didn't make it very far before Caladel whimpered and began to cry against his shoulder. His small arms reached up and wrapped themselves tightly around his neck.

Seeing that he was close enough, he jumped the rest of the way from the snow slope to the platform in the mountain. He took the few steps there were to the side of the mountain and sat down against it, cradling Caladel gently against him as his grandchild continued to cry.

"Shush…" Legolas breathed and crooned the lullaby he had sung so many times to the twins.

"…Nana…" Caladel sobbed. "…Nana …hurts…"

"Shh, Caladel, shh…" Legolas whispered. "I know that it hurts, but everything is going to be all right. Nana is going to come soon, and until she comes I'm not going to leave you. You're safe with me."

Legolas gently leaned away from Caladel so he could look into his grandson's swimming silver eyes. Fat tears rolled down Caladel's flushed cheeks and his eyes showed dazed confusion as well as pain.

"Caladel, do you hurt anywhere else besides your head?" Legolas asked gently.

Caladel sniffled and let out another heart-wrenching sob. It didn't seem as though the question was making it through to him as he began crying listlessly once more, lying back against his chest. "…'urts… What happ'nd…? Where's Nana…?" he spoke through his tears, his voice slurred.

"Nana isn't here right now," Legolas answered calmly once more, trying to still the fear that flooded his heart. "But I'm not going to leave you. You're going to be just fine, Caladel. We were in a bit of an accident, but you're going to be just fine."

O

Maliel's scream echoed in Elrohir's ears even when the wall of snow had passed them, sweeping away his son and friend in one unmerciful stroke. Numbness spread through his body as he stared with wide eyes at the cloud of snow that was obscuring their view from what was happening. Their deaths seemed to hold no consequence to the nature around them…

Naruvir was crying, bending over where he was sitting on his shoulders. Maliel was crying, having fallen to her knees as the snow swept away her son and father. But he could only feel numbness.

It felt like he had been standing there for hours, in reality probably only minutes, when Naruvir was swept off his shoulders and he could distantly hear Elladan comforting him. His brother's voice made something click inside him and he whirled around to glare at his twin.

"How dare you!" he hissed. "How dare you keep me from going to _my son_!"

"Ro, please," Elladan begged, his voice distressed. Tears where gathered in his twin's eyes as he desperately tried to comfort his nephew. "You were about to race out there with Naruvir on your shoulders. It was too late to reach them… I would have gone after them myself… I would have. But I couldn't let all of you die… I couldn't."

Elrohir let out a choked sob at those words and suddenly felt his anger falling away because he knew that Elladan was right. The emotions that replaced his anger were even worse though, as a fear unlike anything he had ever felt before stabbed through his heart with the force of a bolt of lightning.

He bowed his head with a pained whimper and covered it with his hands, for an instant attempting to block out the world. Taking forcibly deep breaths he slowly managed to gain somewhat control of himself, although he could not stop his hands or body from shaking violently.

When he looked up once more, he placed his focus on his other son. Naruvir was crying hysterically in Elladan's arms, refusing to be comforted in any way. It was as if he had already felt Caladel being ripped from him…

Elrohir banished the thought, fear making his heart pound, and hastily moved over and drew Naruvir into his arms, before hurrying his way over to where Maliel was still kneeling on the stone ground. Maliel was shaking her head hysterically as if she could deny what had just happened, silent tears running down her cheeks.

As he kneeled beside her, she looked up at him with almost empty eyes. Some life returned to them as she caught sight of him and she let out a heartbroken sob. "Ro…" she choked. "Ro, my baby…"

Elrohir's own throat was tied up in knots and he could do nothing else but gather what was left of his family in his arms, praying fervently for Caladel and Legolas to be all right.

He had no idea how much time passed before the roaring of snow around the corner of the path finally stilled to a dreadful silence, a silence that seemed to seal the doom of his son and his father-in-law. For a while the whole world seemed to have stopped but then watched with fearful eyes as Elladan swept past them and walked around the bend, back to where the stone archway was and where the avalanche had struck.

"The pass has been blocked," Elladan called back to them, his voice empty. "There is no way to get over this without risking another avalanche…"

At that moment, Maliel suddenly gasped and Elrohir's attention immediately snapped his attention to her in time to see her eyes lose their focus. Realizing what this could mean, Elrohir closed his eyes and delved into himself for his connection to his wife. Once finding it, he propelled all his energy into strengthening it, making a connection with her and entering her mind. Instantly, he could hear Legolas communicating with Maliel.

The conversation did little to allay his fears but despite of this he felt all-consuming relief blossom inside his chest. Caladel was breathing, Caladel's heart was still beating; therefore there was still a chance. His son had a chance. Not dead. Alive. Legolas had him.

Out of every person he could have chosen to be with his son, Legolas was the person he trusted the most, and he knew that his friend and father-in-law would do anything in his power to make sure that nothing happened to his son. He knew Legolas' skills, knew how he could survive in the wilderness, knew his resourcefulness, and knew his ability to transfer energy, to keep a person alive even though all hope seemed lost. He had been in Legolas' care, too, once.

Once they lost their connection to Legolas, the chock seemed to finally leave Maliel and she burst into sobs of both relief and distress. She reached out and pulled Naruvir to her, cradling their son and rocking him back and forth while telling him that his brother was still alive and that they would see each other soon.

As his wife took care of their son, Elrohir turned to Elladan. He was about to tell his brother about what Legolas had said when the sound of hooves clattering over stone reached their ears barely a minute before Glorfindel galloped into view, his expression frantic, an expression that only worsened when he saw that Caladel and Legolas were missing.

The golden haired warrior rode all the way up to them and jumped off Asfaloth, but before he could ask any questions, Elrohir told him what had happened, also sharing what Legolas had just told Maliel and him.

"Let us go," Glorfindel said hurriedly once he was done. "We need to meet up with them as soon as we possibly can. Caladel needs medical attention and Legolas will wear himself out taking this path."

O

Legolas cursed under his labored breath as he stumbled yet again on the path as rocks shifted under his feet. It wasn't without reason that the road he was on was called the stone path; a large part of it was made literally of shifting gravel that had fallen down from the mountain at one point. To navigate it with Caladel in his arms was no small effort and he was often forced to shift his grandson so he was lying over his shoulder.

It was getting dark now, the sun had disappeared from the horizon and red and golden hues of the sky were slowly fading with it. Throughout the evening, Caladel had drifted in and out of sleep, Legolas waking him every hour to make sure that he didn't slip into unconsciousness once more. Every time he woke, Caladel cried listlessly, and no amount of comforting seemed to soothe him.

Legolas shifted so his back was against the mountainside and slowly crept along a narrow passage, all the while whispering soothingly to the sleeping Caladel. The wind was picking up, almost like it was threatening to push him off the mountain. When he had finally skirted past the narrow passage, he stepped around a bend in the path and onto firmer ground.

The corner gave him slight shelter from the wind, and the light had all but faded, so he sat down against the wall of the mountain, cradling Caladel close. He brushed the hair away from Caladel's face and looked sadly at his closed eyes and pale skin. The indigo piece of fabric from his tunic that he had wrapped around Caladel's head was strangely dark in contrast, and where it touched Caladel's head wound it was still wet with blood.

Worried, Legolas reached out and scooped up some of the snow that lay on the path, pressing it together and holding it against the bandage covering the injury.

Caladel stirred as he added the pressure to the wound, whimpered softly before opening dazed and pained silver eyes.

"Hey there," Legolas said softly, caressing Caladel's soft but colorless cheek. "How are you feeling?"

Caladel cuddled against him, moving away from the pressure Legolas was placing on the wound. "…'urts," he breathed listlessly. "…Cold…"

"You're cold?" Legolas asked gently, running his finger through Caladel's auburn hair. His grandson nodded his head against his chest. Legolas was silent for a moment but then he said, "Let's give you some more clothes on then."

Legolas attempted to lift Caladel off his lap so he could sit beside him, but his grandson clung to him desperately and began to cry once more. "Shush, it's all right," Legolas whispered to him soothingly, kissing his forehead. "It's only for a moment."

He reached into Caladel's pocket and lifted out the rabbit, which had spent most of the evening in the confined space, except when he had taken it out because he either had to carry Caladel over his shoulder or wanted to give it a moment of freedom.

"How about you hold onto her for a moment?" Legolas asked softly. With Caladel's need for comfort briefly supplied by the rabbit, he gently lifted his grandson down so he sat next to him, hugging the rabbit to his chest.

Without wasting time, Legolas pulled his undershirt over his head and gently eased his left arm out of the sleeve. In some places the fabric had once more been more of less glued to his arm and the bandages that covered it. When it was off, he shivered in response to the cold of the mountain but ignored this and quickly drew off his boots, took his socks off, and pulled the boots on once more.

With this done, he lifted Caladel into his lap once more and gently wrapped his undershirt around his legs. Then he untied his small boots and pulled them off, all the while Caladel kept his hazy attention of the rabbit in his arms. He pulled his own socks over Caladel's own, which on his grandson were long enough to almost reach his knees, before giving him his shoes on once more.

Afterwards, he wrapped his arms around Caladel and leaned gingerly back against the impossibly cold mountain wall behind him, clenching his teeth against the biting chill. Silent tears were running down Caladel's cheeks in abject misery.

"Was that better?" Legolas asked softly, bending his knees and wrapped himself around Caladel almost like a cocoon.

Caladel sniffled and shook his head, looking up at him with pained eyes. "…Hurts…" he whimpered and sniffled once more. "…You not cold…?"

Legolas felt slightly alarmed and worried by the fact that Caladel seemed to be making no effort to speak correctly or in sentences.

"No, I'm a grown elf," Legolas lied gently. "I do not feel the cold." He reached out with one of the arms he had wrapped around Caladel and gently petted the rabbit in his grandson's lap. "How about you think of a name for her, hmm?"

While he said this, Legolas gathered some of the snow in his hand, holding it in his palm to melt it. His fingers began prickling soon but he ignored them.

Caladel blinked sluggishly, pushing teardrops down his cheeks, as he looked down at the little gray rabbit. He said nothing for a long while and Legolas was beginning to worry if he had forgotten the question or if he hadn't registered it at all when he whispered, "…Lossë…" [Snow]

"That is a very fine name," Legolas told Caladel, tightening his arm around him. Pain laced up his arm but he ignored it as he pressed a kiss against his bandaged forehead. "I'm sure Naruvir will like it, your Ada and Nana as well. When we see them again we'll tell them."

More tears welled up in Caladel's eyes and Legolas guessed that it was only exhaustion that kept his grandson from bursting into tears. "…Now…" Caladel demanded weakly, his voice begging.

"I'm sorry," Legolas whispered. "I can't bring them here right now Caladel, but if we move quickly then we should reach them no later than tomorrow. Right now, you need to rest."

As he had done many times during the day, Legolas gently spread out his aura to encompass his grandson as well, gently feeding him his strength and keeping him calm. It didn't seem as though Caladel was aware of what he was doing, but he felt his little body relaxing in response, getting a small reprieve from the pain.

He had known for quite some time that his abilities had diminished and the cold, hard truth was shown to him now. Compared to what he had done for Elrohir so many years ago all the while maintaining the barrier at a distance and keeping his mind tightly shielded, what he was doing to Caladel should not have any effect on him. It did, though. He could feel it taxing his strength.

He watched as Caladel lethargically petted Lossë, making the rabbit's grey ears fall flat against its back. It was made slightly awkward by the fact that Caladel was wearing his tunic and there were still knots tied on the sleeves below his hands to protect them from the cold.

Feeling that the water in his hand had melted, Legolas lifted it from the ground. "Here," he said softly to Caladel before placing his hand against his mouth. Caladel's small hands reached up and held his through the tied off sleeves, slowly sipping the small amount of water.

When the liquid was drained, Caladel sunk shivering back into his embrace. Legolas wrapped both his arms around him to keep him as warm as possible. For a while, they laid quietly, then Legolas felt as Caladel's finger began trailing over the scars that were visible on his bare chest. Briefly his breath caught, but he quickly composed himself, knowing that Caladel wasn't truly aware of what he was doing.

To distract Caladel, he started singing gently, soothing him into sleep. He felt as his grandson's little body slowly relaxed in his arms, his silver eyes slipping closed and his hand stilling in its path over the white lines that mapped his chest.

Despite this, Legolas kept singing softly to keep his tiredness at bay as he kept watch through the night. He kept waking Caladel every other hour to make sure he didn't lapse back into unconsciousness, giving him handfuls of water every time to replenish the blood he had lost.

After what seemed like forever the new day dawned and they set off once more as soon as the light shone bright enough to light up the path before them, Legolas carrying the dozing Caladel.

O

Glorfindel rode at the head of the group as they galloped from the outlet of the High Pass towards where the stone path met the plains beside the mountains. Throughout the previous day till now, fear and self-reproach raged inside his heart. He should never have rode before the others to check the path ahead!

He still remembered the terror that had gripped him the moment he had heard the roaring of an avalanche from the path he had left behind. Immediately afterwards, he had turned Asfaloth around but the moment he had seen the grim faces that met him as he reached those he had left behind, he had known that it was too late.

From that moment, they had pressed forward, riding their horses on every possible stretch and hurrying on foot on those that were too treacherous. They had moved on through most of the night, taking turns carrying the desolate Naruvir. It seemed that the elfling could feel his twin's state. Despite the fact that Naruvir bore no injury, he seemed to mirror some of the symptoms consistent with a concussion, almost as though he was feeling what Caladel was feeling.

The moment the end of the stone path came into view, Glorfindel, Elladan, and Elrohir jumped off their horses, Elrohir moving over to help Maliel with Naruvir so she could dismount as well.

"Maliel, Elrohir. Set up camp here and wait for our return," Glorfindel said absentmindedly as he began moving towards the slope of gravel that led up to the path Legolas and Caladel should be on.

"I want to come with you," Elrohir argued, his voice soft but demanding as he handed Naruvir to Maliel. "That is my son up there."

"You may have one son up there," Glorfindel hissed quietly, both of them not wanting Naruvir to hear their voices, "but you have another down here as well as your wife. They need you right now, besides I can't be sure-"

"Oi!" Elladan cried out, cutting Glorfindel off and leaping into a run towards they hill of gravel.

Both Glorfindel and Elrohir turned to see what was happening and their eyes widened momentarily before they, too, ran towards the mountains. Legolas had rounded a corner and was standing at the top of the gravel, bare-chested and holding a swathed Caladel in his arms, one of which seemed to be wrapped in bloody, improvised bandages.

Glorfindel heard Maliel cry out as well even as he raced towards his friend. Legolas seemed to have seen them as well because he stopped moving for a moment. Glorfindel could see him shifting Caladel's weight to his injured arm, so he had his right arm free, before he began his descent.

Gravel rolled down the hill because of the disturbance Legolas' weight caused, and Glorfindel knew that having all of them rush up the hill would only endanger them both. Therefore, he ordered Elrohir to stay down so only him and Elladan moved carefully a little ways up the slope, ready to aid Legolas when he reached them.

Then he watched with baited breath as Legolas edged slowly down the hill, leaning backwards and keeping his right hand on the constantly shifting pebbles for balance. As his friend moved closer, he was able to see the tense and pained expression on Legolas' face as he concentrated solely on carrying his grandson safely down the slope.

When he reached where they were standing, Glorfindel and Elladan swooped in from either side, Elladan gently taking Caladel from Legolas' grasp and Glorfindel reaching out to support Legolas.

Glorfindel lips formed a strained smile as Legolas' dust-covered face lifted and their eyes met. Legolas returned the smile ruefully. "Well," Glorfindel said. "Here we are again. Must you find trouble every time I turn my eyes away from you?"

"Despite what you may think, _Glorf_ ," Legolas chuckled hoarsely. "I do not command avalanches. This was in no way my fault."

"Is he unconscious?" Elladan asked softly from beside them. He had brushed the hood of Caladel's cloak off his head and was currently checking his pulse and breathing, placing a hand on his forehead to make sure he didn't have a fever, and checking the bandages for signs of recent bleeding.

"No," Legolas answered. "I woke him an hour ago. He should only be sleeping."

Glorfindel could hear the dry hoarseness of his friend's voice and breathing as well as feel the way he was leaning slightly against him. In response, he wrapped one of his arms around Legolas' waist.

Elladan nodded at Legolas' words. "Let's wait with waking him until he is in his mother's and father's arms then," he spoke. "Let us go down."

The trip downhill was pleasantly uneventful and the moment they stepped from the gravel and onto even ground, Elrohir was at his twin's side, pulling Caladel into his arms. Maliel stood beside her husband anxiously, holding that still sleeping Naruvir. They fussed over Caladel, Elrohir checking him over as his twin had done before.

"Elladan, will you set up camp so we can take care of their wounds?" Glorfindel said softly, not wanting to disturb the reunion. Elladan nodded and moved towards their horses.

"Caladel," Elrohir called gently as he caressed his son's pale cheek, his voice choked. "Caladel… Wake up please, my son."

Caladel stirred with a whimper, and soon his cloudy, silver eyes blinked open. At exactly the same time, Naruvir also woke from his sleep. It seemed almost instantly afterwards that the twins were clinging to each other inside their parents' warm embrace.

While Legolas' attention was directed at the reunion, his eyes glassy, Glorfindel unclasped his cloak and wrapped it around his friend. Legolas snapped out of his daze and turned his sapphire eyes to him. There was tiredness in those orbs and he found his worry heightened by the way his friend shivered.

"You gave all of your clothes to Caladel," Glorfindel observed softly.

"He was cold," Legolas whispered.

"So are you, and have been for a while from the looks of it." Glorfindel remarked, running his eyes over Legolas' body. "I'm sure that you're blue underneath all that dust. Perhaps Caladel was cold, but you would have been no use to him if you allowed yourself to freeze to death."

"But I didn't freeze to death," Legolas responded quietly, amusement in his eyes and voice. "You have plenty of time to warm me up before my heart stops working."

Glorfindel huffed and gave Legolas a mock glare. Their attention was diverted when Maliel ran to Legolas and flung her arms around him, having left Elrohir holding both twins.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly into Legolas' ear. There were choked emotions in her voice. "I don't think I can ever repay you for this. …Are you all right, Ada?"

"I'm going to be fine, princess," Legolas answered, his voice soft but hoarse. "Go back to your sons, they need you right now."

Maliel nodded against Legolas and then turned her sky blue eyes to him. "Take care of him, Glorfindel," she told him, as if that was necessary.

"Of course," he answered. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Maliel gave him a smile before placing a kiss against Legolas' cheek and walking back to her family. All of them the moved to where Elladan was hustling about, settling up camp.

While the others took care of Caladel's wound, Glorfindel made Legolas sit down on a bedroll before unwinding the makeshift bandages that he had wrapped around his injured left arm. Dried blood made it stick to the wounds and he was forced to make Legolas wince multiple times before he finally managed to peal it away.

The wounds underneath stretched nearly from his wrist to his shoulder, small scrapes, larger cuts, abrasions, and dark bruising.

"What in Balrog's name did you do to yourself?" Glorfindel hissed under his breath as he checked the injury.

"I have no idea," Legolas answered. He had closed his eyes tiredly. "The avalanche smashed us against something. My arm took the brunt of the impact and Caladel's head took the rest. I didn't manage to see what it was through the snow."

Glorfindel grumbled under his breath. He reached for Legolas' wrist and gently moved the joint, clucking his tongue as he felt Legolas automatically try to pull it away. "Your wrist may be sprained," he said thoughtfully and then took a deep breath before continuing, "Right. I think Elladan has made a fire and boiled some water by now. I'll bathe the wounds, stitch the worst of them, bandage your arm, and splint your wrist."

"By the Valar, do not stop there," Legolas said sarcastically, a smile playing on his lips. "While you're at it you may as well bandage the rest of my limbs, my head, and my torso."

Glorfindel snorted in amusement. "You're cheeky now," he said, "but we'll see how cheeky you are when I am done with you." He stood up and paused for a moment before running his fingers gently through Legolas' hair.

"Rest, Legolas," he said softly. "As soon as those wounds are taken care of I'll get you warm and comfortable once more, and then you can sleep. Something I think you skipped last night."

Legolas smiled and shook his head ruefully. "Go," he told him tiredly. "I'll be fine."

Glorfindel nodded and moved over to the fire to gather supplies. When he returned, he gently took care of Legolas' injuries before bundling him in extra clothes from both of their saddlebags as well as a couple of blankets. Shivering, Legolas pulled them tighter around him.

Knowing that they hadn't had any provisions when the avalanche had swept them away, Glorfindel found a loaf of bread and made a mug of tea, which he brought over to his friend. Legolas took them gratefully and wrapped his hands around the warm mug, as if seeking its warmth.

While they were talking gently, Legolas devouring the bread and tea, Elrohir came over and sat with them.

Legolas turned his attention to the twin immediately. "How is Caladel?" he asked. "He's been inconsolable since he was injured because of the pain and his speech has been slurred. He was sick a few times also, and-"

Elrohir held up a hand to stop him and smiled gently. "Caladel is going to be fine, thanks to you," he said, relief clear in his voice. "By the time we reach Ithilien, the injury should be healed completely. We'll stay here for a few days to allow both of you to rest. …I have no idea how you managed to survive that avalanche, and I can see that you are not unscathed either, but I will praise myself lucky till the end of my life and beyond that it was possible."

O

As Legolas gazed, smiling, at the two elflings who playfully skipped along before them as they walked through the white trees of Northern Ithilien, he could only agree with what Elrohir had said. Naruvir and Caladel were innocently running after Lossë at the head of the group under the watchful and amused gaze of their parents, their small faces lit with glee and merriment.

The company had descended from their horses on this last part of their journey, trusting them to follow behind. The forest around them was completely peaceful, Legolas hearing the gentle songs of the trees as well as their joy at seeing the group. The rustling of the golden and white leaves in the canopy led them eagerly towards their destination, their color changed by the autumn. It seemed as though the trees were already aware of who was finally returning.

It wasn't long before they could begin to see the settlement in the distance. Two large white trees stood side-by-side with enough space between them to allow three horses to ride through, abreast. The trees leaned towards each other to join at the crown, their branches intertwining and their canopies intermingling.

On either side of this lancet archway, narrow ducts had their beginning, ducts that directed water from the nearby lake to encircle the settlement, creating its border. The small canals disappeared further into the woods, snaking their way around other trees, lush grass hanging over their edges.

This was not was caught Legolas' attention though. Elves had gathered inside the gate, standing on either side of the avenue of trees that led from the archway and into the forest city. He knew almost every single one of them, they were warriors he had fought and laughed with standing with their families, they were wood elves, his mother's people, and they were his friends. So far close to a hundred elves had joined his settlement in Ithilien, more were sure to come as the years passed.

At the end of the gathering stood Alfirin and Yúcalë, and for once both of them were smiling, although Yúcalë smile was rooted in amusement and Alfirin's was soft and proud.

"Caladel, Naruvir," Maliel called gently. The twins looked back at their mother, Naruvir holding Lossë in his arms, having managed to catch the rabbit. "Come here. Let your grandfather walk first."

Legolas looked at her and she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, even as Caladel and Naruvir walked to her and she placed her hands on either of their shoulders. His daughter smiled to him and said, "This is your realm, Ada. All of these people came here, not because of unhappiness where they were, or because grandfather ordered them, but because of loyalty to you. All of them love you, they do not care that you have been with us these past years, they only care that you are here now. Go to them."

He stared at his daughter, nervousness hidden deep inside his sapphire eyes. After a moment, he turned to Glorfindel, and – seeing him nod as well – he turned to the archway once more and took a deep breath before moving towards his people. He walked through the crowd of elves on either side, returning their nods and smiles. His heart beat inside his chest, but not too much, not enough to induce panic.

Before long he found himself standing before his old minder and his nephew. Alfirin stepped up to him and placed a fatherly kiss against his forehead. "Welcome home, Legolas," he whispered softly, lowering his green and yellow eyes to look piercingly into his. Apparently pleased by what he saw, Alfirin smiled and said, "Or should I call you 'my Lord'?"

"You know that you have never needed to use that title, my friend," Legolas said and returned the smile.

"And yet it is true," Alfirin responded. It was at that moment that Yúcalë stepped up beside his uncle and reverently handed him a circlet of mithril. It was made of thin, intertwining bands of silver-white, scattered with small white leaves, and ended in a subtle downward point at the forehead. Simple and elegant.

"You are our Lord, Legolas," Alfirin said gently, "and not because you were born Prince or because you have experience with it, but because we want you to." He reached up and placed the circlet upon Legolas' brow, making his sapphire blue eyes fall closed briefly at the familiar weight of responsibility upon his head. "We trust you, and we will follow you to the end of elven time on this earth."

Alfirin and the rest of the elves made to kneel before him, but as he stayed Alfirin by gently taking hold of his elbows, the rest of the crowd halted as well. His minder lifted his vibrant eyes to his and Legolas was aware of the silence around him, caused by his action.

"I would not have you bow to me, my friend, my equal," Legolas said, his voice carried strongly yet gently to the crowd. He turned back to the path he had just trodden, gazing first at his family and then to the elves that stood waiting for what he would do next. "I could not have made any of this possible without help from all of you, without your loyalty and your trust in me. I can only hope that I can live up to the love that has gone into building this haven, and the faith that has made you ask me to govern it beside you. You need not bow to me, for the respect you have for me is nothing against what I feel right now when I look upon you now."

After those words, he smiled to his people, before lowering his sapphire eyes, the smile still playing on his lips. He raised his hand and crossed his three middle fingers before touching his forehead, "Samldë símanya," he touched his lower lip, "ómanya," he touched his heart, "órenya." Then he knelt down on one knee and placed his outspread hand on the ground before him. "Tenna lúmë metta." [You have my mind, my voice, my heart. Unto the end of time.]

Nature around them shook with the force of his pledge, a wave of energy rolling out from the point where his hand touched the ground. The elves around him gasped softly as they felt its power sweep through them on its way to the narrow canals that surrounded the city, infusing them with his power and forever protecting their borders from all that would do them harm.

Legolas felt the weight of the power needed to govern such a border crash down inside his chest, but bore it unflinchingly as he slowly rose to his feet once more. There was a dull glow to his sapphire blue eyes that slowly faded even as the elves around him watched.

"Now that's jus' fancy, ain't it?"

The voice came from the back of the crowd somewhere, and the elves parted to allow the smiling Gruinor, Pengon, and Roben to move to Legolas.

"Yer may not think that it is necessary for us to bow before ya'," Gruinor continued, "and per'aps this ol' sword will no longer be needed, but despite the fact that ya' seem to believe that yer respect fer us outweighs ours for you, I'll look forward ter continuin' to prove you wrong. Captain," he smirked, "my sword is yours."

Gruinor drew his sword from its scabbard and kneeled before him, laying the sword upon the ground, as did Pengon and Roben. The clear ringing of countless of swords doing the same filled the avenue as elves one by one took out their swords and placed them upon the ground, kneeling behind them. Those who had none placed their hands upon their hearts and knelt just the same.

For a moment, Legolas could only stare but then a true smile broadened upon his lips and a chuckle, like the clear ringing of silver bells, burst from his lips. He reached out towards Gruinor and when the old warrior reached out to him as well, Legolas clasped his forearm and pulled him up into an embrace.

The next hours were spent greeting his people and getting a tour of the city. They had entered through the Southern Gate; there was another at the western edge and at the northern, as well as a bridge to the east. The city was built in the middle of the forest, trees spread throughout the airy grounds, and the canals circled around it to join with the lake at the northeastern border.

To the right side of the Southern Gate, airy stables had been built from the greyish-white wood of trees that had been felled carelessly by orcs or fallen in storms around the forest, as the rest of the city had been. It connected to a green area where the horses could run free. On the opposing side there were storage houses for grain and all else that grew on the fields outside the city.

The western side of the city was reserved mostly for homes. Talain and houses had been built in equal amounts around the grounds, as well as platforms and gazebos, incorporating both the trees and the ground, and allowing elves to choose what suited them best. Everything was built from the same white wood and sculpted elegantly to accentuate the forest around it.

Homes were also built in the Eastern part of the city, but this was also the home of the kitchens and the workshops. In addition to this a large pavilion had been built using eight well-placed and slender trees. Like with the archway, these trees leaned towards each other and joined at their crowns, creating a shimmering roof of white and golden leaves, leaves that would turn green once more come spring.

On the northeastern side of the city, by the lake, a boathouse had been built as well as a bridge that led out into the peaceful water, two boats anchored at either side of it. On the other side of the Nothern Gate, at the northwestern side of the city, training grounds had been made.

Legolas saw all of this, but mostly his attention was drawn to the great, old tree that stood in the very center of the city. As he neared it with Alfirin, he felt a sense of returning home. Already he could feel how the tree recognized him and reached out towards him, as one would an old friend.

The others were still at the house that had been built for Maliel, Elrohir, and their little family not far from his. Alfirin had wanted to show him his new home alone, so the others would come later.

A pentagon structure had been built around the trunk of the great tree, its great branches hanging down to rest upon it like a leafy roof. Already from the outside, he could see the long, arched windows that had been placed into the greyish-white wood that created the house. In the same shape, a door had been carved and dyed cerulean blue, the veins and knots of the wood showing through it.

Legolas placed his hand against the painted surface, feeling the smooth wood beneath his palm. "Go inside," Alfirin said softly behind him. He turned to him and saw that Alfirin was grinning cat-like to him. "I personally had a hand in the decoration."

"Of course you did," Legolas chuckled. He turned back to the door and after a moment grasped the brass doorknob and turned it. The door clicked and he pushed it upon so he could step inside. Immediately, he found himself speechless.

The whole structure circled around the old tree and the great white trunk was like a pillar in its center, reaching upwards and spanning out into a large canopy, the underside of the white and golden leaves creating a shimmering white roof. Upon the white bark of the trunk a simple pattern had been painted in thin brushstrokes in the same cerulean as the front door, reaching from the roots to the canopy.

The large windows on every wall of the house could be opened to allow air to stream inside, and delicate, flowing, white curtains reaching all the way down to the ground hung on either side of every one.

As he stepped inside, he could feel underneath his boots as the grass continued into the house and created the flooring along with fallen, golden leaves from the tree above. It seemed that only where the furniture rested on the ground the natural forest floor had been cut away and replaced by light grey stone.

To the left he could see a large, wooden desk standing beside one of the large windows, a chair before it as well as behind it. Already there was paper, feather quill, and ink upon it, ready for him to go to work. Two bookcases stood as a backdrop to the desk and created a partial room divider, and as he walked around it he found that there was a round table with chairs. From the map of Ithilien and the surrounding realms on the wall behind it, he could tell that it was a place for him to hold meetings.

As he could go no further, he turned and walked the other way around. On the other side of the pentagon building there was a sitting area with a couch, a divan, and an armchair facing a stone fireplace. As every other piece of furniture, they had all been carved from the same greyish-white wood the house was built of and had been padded with soft, ivory fabric and cushions.

Further inside there was tiny kitchen with a small dining table for six, and behind this a door led into a bathroom, which was the only sealed off room in the building. The window inside was made of stained glass and depicted a boat sailing on the sea under a colorful sunrise.

"It is wonderful," Legolas said to Alfirin as he walked back to where his old minder waited for him at the entrance.

"You haven't seen the best of it yet," Alfirin said with a feral grin on his lips, his green eyes twinkling with mischief as he gestured towards the canopy.

Legolas looked up, saw that there was a small platform built higher up into the branches of the old tree, and smiled. He jumped, grabbed hold of one of the branches, and effortlessly pulled himself into the canopy. Once up, he climbed swiftly to the platform.

A feather mattress lay upon it, using the trunk of the tree as headboard and covered with a bedspread, blankets, and pillows in dusty shades of both green and blue. Beside the bed there was a lantern and at its foot there was a wooden chest where he could keep personal effects.

He heard something beneath him as he sat on the edge of the platform and looked down to see Alfirin climbing up as well. When he reached him, Alfirin sat down beside Legolas.

"When it is night," the wood elf said softly, "you can see the stars through the foliage. …I hope that being up here, so close to nature, will bring you peace I know that you have not had for a long time."

Alfirin turned to look at him and they locked gazes, both holding much love and respect for the other. "What will you name this city, Titta Lassë. It has been waiting for you." [Little Leaf]

Legolas was silent for a long moment, closing his eyes and breathing in the air around him. Then he opened his eyes and looked through the shimmering canopy as he answered, "Cirban Gilion." [Haven of stars]


	10. Cirban Gilion

**Chapter ten – Cirban Gilion**

 _The 2nd year of the Forth Age. Caladel and Naruvir are four years old._

A sharp kick in the side abruptly jerked Legolas awake, his eyes focusing to the sight of the morning sun peaking through the green and white leaves that created the roof over his bed. He felt sluggish and warm in the bed, wrapped in a comfortable bedspread and blankets, his head resting on one of the many pillows, and two weights making the bed dip on either side of him.

With an already indulgent look in his eyes, he turned his eyes from the ceiling and looed beside him. As always, Caladel seemed to be making an attempt at taking over the bed, an arm and a leg thrown over his poor grandfather, already having kicked and punched him many times during the night. The elfling had somehow managed to turn in his sleep and now used the foot of the bed to rest his head upon.

Tucked against his other side, Naruvir was sleeping peacefully with both hands disappearing under his green pillow. He laid spooned around Lossë, the grey rabbit sleeping like a fluffy stuffed animal against his stomach. She had grown since they had first rescued her in the mountains and her leg had completely healed, making her able to hop freely around Cirban Gilion with the twins.

For a while, Legolas just lay there peacefully, basking in the warmth and the peace of the summer morning. He found himself listening to the soft breathing of his grandsons as they slept innocently on either side of him, their faces completely relaxed and trusting. His peace was shattered not even a minute afterwards by a loud rumbling that seemed to shake the entire tree they were resting upon.

Legolas' lips curved sleepily into a smile and he chuckled softly. Opening his sapphire eyes once more, Legolas placed his hand against Naruvir's cheek, gently caressing it all the while reaching out and tickling the underside of Caladel's bared foot just as another rumble tore through the silence.

Naruvir slowly edged into wakefulness, blinking his eyes into focus. Caladel, other on the other hand, gave a snort and jerked his foot away from his mercilessly tickling grandfather, turning around and burying himself in the covers once more. Legolas chuckled and gazed at Naruvir, his youngest grandson looking at him with shining, silver eyes.

"Good morning," Legolas whispered gently and brushing his hand over Naruvir's auburn hair.

Naruvir turned onto his stomach, waking a disgruntled rabbit from her peaceful sleep, and propped his head up with his hands, smiling back to his grandfather. "Good morning," he greeted him softly.

Legolas pressed a kiss against his youngest grandson's forehead and then proceeded with reaching under the blankets and tickling Caladel's side. This time, the elder twin flew up from the covers, his drooping eyes looking accusingly at him and his hair a mess atop his head. This stage lasted only the span of a wide, jaw-breaking yawn and then Caladel happily threw his arms around first his grandfather and then his twin.

He was about to say something but at that moment there was another rumble and his silver eyes grew wide. Legolas sat up on the bed, making his expression the very image of alertness. He had the twins' attention immediately.

"What is that noise?" Caladel asked innocently, looking up at Legolas.

Legolas gestured for both of them to lean towards him and then whispered, "It seems that while we slept, a real, fire-breathing dragon has invaded our house." Another rumble sounded and Legolas paused, looking around suspiciously before continuing, "Even as we sit here, it is sleeping just downstairs, waiting for us to come down so that it can eat us for breakfast."

Both twins were gazing up at him, wide-eyed.

"We must be careful not to make any noise," Legolas said as he stood up from the bed. "It may awaken it."

With that in mind all three of them tiptoed their way out of the bed and to the edge of the platform, Legolas taking Lossë and placing her upon his shoulder. Placing his finger upon his lips in sign to the twins, they then began climbing down the branches, Legolas feeling the great tree's amusement and struggled to keep from chuckling as well.

He didn't need to help Caladel and Naruvir much, despite their young age. To their mother and father's horror, the twins – being part wood elf – had no trouble climbing trees. It was something that had led to more than a to more than a few panic-inducing incidents.

As they reached the bottom layer of branches, they stopped and crouched. Once the twins realized what was really the dragon they both laughed gleefully, holding their hands before their mouths. On the divan in the house below them, Gimli was lying deeply asleep. As he breathed in and out, heavy and grating snores rumbled through the house. On the sofa opposite to him, Gruinor was sleeping as well, a pillow stuffed against his head in an attempt to block out the noise. The table between them was laden with empty bottles of mead and mugs.

Legolas finally let his grin show and chuckled softly with the twins at the scene below them. Gimli had been in Ithilien for two days and already he seemed to have found a kindred spirit in Gruinor. Last night he had left them drinking merrily as the twins' bedtime arose.

"Your grandfather once spent months on end listening to that ruckus every night," Legolas said with mock solemnness to his grandsons. "I don't even know if he knows about it. Poor dragon."

Grinning at the extra round of laughter from Naruvir and Caladel, Legolas then jumped down from the branch to the ground. He placed Lossë down on the grass and then held out his arms and – one after the other – caught Caladel and Naruvir as they jumped as well. Afterwards, he hustled them away from where Gimli and Gruinor were sleeping and towards the bathroom.

At the age of four, Caladel and Naruvir were just a little taller than the middle of his thigh, their auburn, shoulder length hair bouncing as they ran before him to the bathroom, opening the door and jumping inside. Legolas followed them with a fond smile on his lips.

Light shone in from the stained glass inside the wooden room and colored both walls and ceiling. A tall mirror stood upon the grass against the far end wall beside an elegant table holding a washbasin, which in turn stood beside the lavatory. Against the wall where the door was there was a large bathtub with a water pump, all of which stood before a stone fireplace where water could be heated.

This was what Legolas walked to, and as he built a fire, warmed water, and filled the tub, the twins independently went along with their morning rituals as well as found clothes in the wardrobe that stood against the trunk of the tree that was the center of the house.

"There we are," Legolas said as he pumped the last gushes of water into the tub so it was neither too hot nor too cold. He then turned while saying, "How about you-"

He was cut off abruptly and the rest of the sentence was lost in an 'uff' as the twins barreled into him, stark naked, the force of which flipped him back into the bathtub. The water closed around his head and he surfaced, gasping, to the sound of Naruvir and Caladel giggling gleefully.

He swiped his hand over his face before reaching out for the twins and drawing them towards him. "Oh so that's how we're playing, huh?" he demanded as he held them against his chest and tickled them mercilessly. Water splashed to and fro as they squirmed and struggled in his arms.

Laughing, he trapped them using only one arm and reached out to grab the bottle of soap that stood at the edge of the bathtub. With a thumb he popped the lid and squeezed soap over the twins' hair even as they protested through their giggles. When their hair was covered liberally, he set aside the bottle and used his hand to rub it into their wet, auburn tresses. It wasn't long before they were covered in white foam, their heads tipped backwards to keep it from getting in their eyes.

"And how do you feel now, my little snowelves?" Legolas asked with a large grin on his lips, gazing into the twin's gleaming, grey eyes, which were framed by dark eyelashes. "Do you yield to this mighty warrior?"

"Never!" both of them cried out, laughing. They swiftly turned around in his arms, their skin too slippery for him to hold on. He only struggled half-heartedly as they grabbed the bottle of soap and used their four small hands to rub it into his hair as well while he cradled them against his chest, covered by a sodden sleeping tunic.

"If you think you can get away with this because your parents are first coming home from their weekend trip this afternoon then you are mistaken," Legolas threatened, though the smile upon his lips belied his words.

Nevertheless, it made the twins freeze. They both made large, innocent, doe eyes to him. Before they could smelt his heart completely, however, he reached out and pinched both of their noses before throwing all of them underwater, shaking his head to get all of the soap out. When he sat up once more, the twins spluttered and glowered at him through drenched locks.

"Why look how clean you are," Legolas teased sweetly.

Another water fight ensued before he was able to grab a twin under each arm and lift them out of the tub. Before they could run off as he placed them down on the lush grass, he grabbed two soft towels and threw them over their heads.

As the twins were busy drying off, he grabbed his own towel and walked over to the closet while drying his hair. He opened the white, wooden door and found a blue undershirt. Hearing the twins talking animatedly to each other, distracted, he quickly pulled his sodden sleeping tunic over his head and dried himself before pulling the undershirt on.

He told himself that he didn't want the twins to see the scars that covered his chest and back to spare them, but deep down he knew that it was really because he detested the very sight of them, because he was ashamed of them… It had been years since he had last had the courage to truly look at his body in the mirror.

Faneth would have kicked him…

Pulling himself swiftly from his thoughts, he finished drying and changed into a pair of soft grey leggings and a teal tunic. He then leaned against the closet and combed his hair while watching with a smile on his lips as the twins alternated between drying themselves, running around, and wrestling playfully. Long after he was done, they finished and moved on to struggling into the shockingly colored items of clothing that they had found themselves.

"Would you like some help with that?" Legolas asked, trying to keep from chuckling as he watched Caladel struggling to get his arm through the right hole in his shirt.

"No!" both the twins protested simultaneously. "We can do it!"

Legolas couldn't keep his laughter back at that and some time went before he said, still chuckling, "I'll just go and make breakfast then."

He didn't get an answer from the two struggling twins as he walked out of the bathroom, keeping the door open so he could hear them if they called for him. He walked barefooted over the grass to his small kitchen, drawing the delicate curtains from the long windows behind the dining table on the way. Bright sunlight streamed unhindered into his home.

Reaching into the cupboard, he took out plates, glasses, and cutlery, quickly setting his wooden table for five people before finding bread, fruit, as well as honey from their own beehives. The honey and the mead they made from it had quickly become items of trade, sold to not only Gondor and Emyn Arnen, where Faramir reigned, both also to Gimli's glittering caves.

The trade deal with the dwarves had been held back by reluctant citizens in both of their realms in the beginning, but both him and Gimli had managed to make it pass. In return for mead, honey, and other things, the dwarves had supplied them with ironwork, tools, weapons, and the like.

This had been the official reason given for Gimli's visit, but Legolas knew that his dwarven friend had grown very fond of Caladel and Naruvir from his earlier visits, although he would never admit it willingly.

Glancing over at the divan, Legolas grinned. Gimli was still snoring loudly, oblivious to the world around him just like Gruinor. Shaking his head, he set a pitcher of orange juice onto the table as well as one with water. Just as he did this, Caladel and Naruvir practically bounced out of the bathroom, dressed as colorfully as usual with their hair brushed.

With a smile, Legolas walked over and scooped both of them into his arms, twirling them around before pressing kisses against their foreheads. They grinned hugely to him. "You look very dashing," he told them. "Are you ready to eat?"

"Yes!" Caladel said eagerly, squirming out of his arms and jumping on to one of the chairs around the table. Naruvir, on the other hand, nodded in reply and gifted him with a sweet smile before hugging him around the neck.

"What about Uncle Gimli and Gruinor?" Naruvir asked innocently as he caught sight of them over his shoulder.

Legolas turned and a grin lit up in his face as he looked at the two sluggards. Still holding Naruvir, he walked from the table and over to the couch. Halfway there, though, he heard a sound from the kitchen that made him say warningly, "and don't think I can't see what you're doing Caladel!"

He glanced back and saw that his oldest grandson had frozen in the midst of bringing a large spoonful of honey directly into his mouth. The twin pouted and reluctantly put the spoon back before letting his head dump down onto the table in rejection.

He turned back to the matter at hand and flashed a feral grin at his grandson before yanking the pillow that covered Gruinor's head away and hit him with it before giving Gimli a whack as well. Gruinor groaned pitifully, but Legolas was forced to hit Gimli once more before his snores were cut off by a loud curse. The dwarf was halfway upright when he groaned as well and sunk back onto the divan, cradling his head.

"Good morning," Legolas said brightly, his voice higher and more cheerful than normal. Gruinor and Gimli both let out another pitiful moan. "Breakfast is ready!"

Gruinor chuckled huskily and grabbed the back of the couch to haul his body upright. Once sitting, he looked at Legolas through bleary jade eyes with a wry grin on his lips. "Good mornin' Cap'ain," he responded gruffly. "'xcuse me for imposin'."

"I'm sure that you and Gimli can make up for it by cleaning up after breakfast, clearing away the bottles and whatnot, as well as fixing anything else that needs done," Legolas said cheerfully, his smile becoming positively wolfish.

"Confound all pointy-eared halfwits," Gimli groaned irritably. "Why in Mahal's name are you so cheery _this_ early?!"

Gruinor burst out in boisterous laughter. "Mayhap the reason fer yer grumpiness is that you 'ere trounced in a drinking contest agains' one of these pointy-eared 'alfwits!"

"I was not trounced!" Gimli protested.

"What would yer like ta call it them?" Gruinor grinned hugely. "Utterly defeated? Annihilated? Massacred? Brought to yer knees?"

Gimli glared at Gruinor for a brief moment but then broke into gruff laughter, which Gruinor readily followed him in. Legolas grinned as well and shared a chuckle with Naruvir, who had watched the exchange with large eyes.

"Gooooood morning, Uncle Gimli!" Caladel cried out cheerfully as he ran from the table and jumped onto Gimli's lap. The dwarf happily sat up and bounced Caladel on his knees.

"Hello there, Laddie," Gimli greeted, smiling behind his large, red beard. He patted Caladel's hair before looking up at Naruvir as well. "And you also, little Naruvir." Naruvir smiled and waved shyly in return, leaning his head against Legolas' shoulder.

"Come," Legolas said with a smile as he hefted Naruvir further up into his arms. "Breakfast is waiting."

They all got up and cheerfully hurried towards the breakfast table, Caladel pulling Gimli along and Legolas carrying Naruvir. When they reached it, Legolas placed Naruvir in one of the chairs before sitting down beside him. Gruinor sat on his other side and Caladel and Gimli sat down across from them.

It proved to be a merry meal, Legolas and Gimli helping Naruvir and Caladel spread butter and honey over slices of bread. Through the meal, Gruinor boisterously regaled a training session he had had with Yúcalë the previous day, and arranging to combat Gimli later that day. The twins listened with wide eyes, clearly awed, and would have forgotten to eat if Legolas hadn't poked them once in a while.

Already, the twins had begun to show a preference for grand tales of warriors and adventures when they were told bedtime stories.

"If your mother asks when she come home this afternoon," Legolas said and smiled to his grandsons before carrying their empty plates to the sink, "then I have fed you nothing but porridge since they left."

"Yes, Grandpa!" The twins agreed without thought.

Gruinor guffawed at their eager, but hid his laughter behind his hand, as two sets of grey eyes turned to him in innocent confusion.

Legolas cleared his throat as the twins turned to him next and changed the subject by saying, "Well, we should get going now and leave Gruinor and Gimli to their chores." He walked over to table and scooped a twin up in each arm. "We must go and see how Cirban Gilion is faring this fine morning."

Just before he walked out of the door, Gruinor called mischievously through the house, "Cap'ain, when was the last time ya got really drunk?"

"No matter what you're going to say, my answer is no," Legolas called back and closed the door to his house.

Cirban Gilion was lush and green at this time of years, white anemones and purple irises spotting the flowing grass that covered the city. As he walked through the trees he heard wood elven music drifting through the air from one of the talan. Looking up, he saw the twins Anarórë and Elfaron playing the flute and lute.

"It is beautiful," Naruvir whispered in awe. Caladel as well was looking upwards with amazement in his eyes.

Legolas could see Anarórë and Elfaron's cat-like, green eyes dancing with amusement at Naruvir's words, even if they did not stop playing, and smiled to them before walking on.

"Can you play anything, Grandpa?" Caladel asked.

"No, I can't." Legolas answered softly. "I didn't have the time to learn how to play an instrument in all of my long life. Perhaps the two of you will learn how, if you wish. I only have my voice."

"Will you sing it to us?" Naruvir pleaded. "The song."

Legolas smiled in respond to the question. He was silent for a moment as he listened to the music that floated down from the talan, remembering the lyrics and waiting for the moment when the twins started on a new stanza before joining the melodic tunes.

" _Núra imi i-melehta taurë_

 _Sanomië yerna tathar_

 _Sennui máto essë yaime olba_

 _Sennui findo essë yaime lassï_

 _Sennui helmo essë yaime randa_

 _Manen essë mernë sa nér varya"_

Anarórë and Elfaron played louder in response to the sound of his singing, their tones weaving into his voice and flowing around the air of Cirban Gilion, through the trees and over the grass.

" _Núra imi i-melehta taurë_

 _Sanomë lilta vanya vendë_

 _Fána vaimaryaïe ne siri_

 _Fána tálinryaïer parna ne wilin_

 _Fána nelciryaïer ne raita_

 _Manen essë mernä anesërya"_

The elves that they met on their journey through the haven bowed their heads to him and smiled with glowing eyes. He returned their greetings with a nod without pausing in the song.

" _Núra imi i-melehta taurë_

 _Caris appä randarya_

 _Essë maltha se imi fëarya_

 _Essë maltha se imi endërya_

 _Essë maltha se imi numbërya_

 _Manen essë melrya"_

He felt Caladel and Naruvir relax against and gazed down to see them looking up at him with dazed eyes.

" _Núra imi i-melehta taurë_

 _I-vendë vanya lilta au_

 _Holto anat polrya ala hé_

 _Holto anat ómarya ane alómea_

 _Holto anat ala ractarya_

 _Manen essë anes nér"_

The sounds of the flute and harp grew fainter as they made their way out of the heart of the city and towards the Western archway, leading into the forest. It was to the northwest that they had their fields, orchards, and beehives.

" _Núra imi i-melehta taurë_

 _Sanomië yerna tathar_

 _Sennui máto essë yaime olba_

 _Sennui findo essë yaime lassï_

 _Sennui helmo essë yaime randa_

 _Manen essë mernë sa nér varya."_

He finished the song as he walked under the two trees that formed the Western archway and entered the forest beyond. The path through the grass was well trodden by now and he had no issues making his way.

Caladel and Naruvir blinked as if they were coming out of a trance and Caladel soon asked, "What is it about?"

"It is about someone who loves a fair maiden but cannot have her," Legolas answered softly.

"Why?" Naruvir asked innocently.

"Because they come from two different worlds," Legolas responded, gently lowered the twins to the ground and taking their hand in his so that they walked on either side of him. "He was a tree and she was a mortal girl, even though he called out to her she could not hear him."

At that moment, they walked into a large meadow where elves was walking around managing crops, fruit trees, and extracting honey from the wooden beehives that stood on either side.

Legolas walked along the length of the meadow, inquiring about how it was going and if there was anything he could help them with, all the while pointing herbs and crops out to Caladel and Naruvir and telling them what they were.

When they reached the orchard, he led the twins over to the rows of apple trees. An elf was wandering among the trees with a bucket, collecting those that were ripe for plucking. He immediately recognized her as being Isilmë, her long, silver hair glinting in the sunlight.

"Could you use an extra pair of hands?" he asked.

Isilmë turned and looked at him through her dark green eyes, the feral smile on her lips turned soft at the sight of little Caladel and Naruvir. She braced the bucket against her side and walked towards them, her hips swaying almost like she was a cat stalking up on her prey.

As she reached them, she kneeled and gazed into Caladel and Naruvir's silver eyes. "I can always use an extra pair of hands," she just short of purred. "Especially from ones so adorable as you."

"Isilmë, leave the innocent children alone!" Yúcalë amused voice suddenly sounded from above, barely holding back laughter. Legolas looked up and saw Yúcalë sitting against the trunk of one of the trees, eating an apple.

In the next second, an apple flew past and smacked against Yúcalë forehead, nearly knocking him off the tree. "I wasn't talking to you!" Isilmë growled, glaring at Alfirin's nephew. As soon as she turned back to the twins, though, her eyes and smile were gentle and doting once more, "Come with me and I'll show you some trees you can help your Grandfather pick from."

The morning then went with teaching Caladel and Naruvir to listen to the tree to know which fruits to take and which to leave so that they could mature more. When they had found out which ones were ready for picking, he would lift them up so that they could reach them.

Afterwards, they visited the marketplace and bought supplies for the dinner that Legolas had persuaded Gimli to make for when Maliel and Elrohir came home from their extended weekend trip to one of the hunting cottages that belonged to Cirben Gilion, half a day's ride from the city. They had gone there to be together just the two of them as they celebrated the anniversary of their marriage, leaving him to watch the twins.

Between the possessive looks Elrohir had been sending his daughter the days before they left, and the deep flush on Maliel's cheeks as she asked him to watch over the twins, trying and failing at being nonchalant and saying that it was 'just a little trip in the forest', he had been hard pressed to hold back his laughter. In the end, he had plastered an indulgent smile on his lips and forced himself to look sympathetic as he patted Maliel's arm and said 'of course it is'.

They brought the supplies to his house and then went to the pavilion, made from eight trees leaning into each other and joining at the canopies, to eat lunch with the rest of Cirban Gilion's citizens. Two long tables had been placed under the leafy cover and elves were already gathered, either already eating or getting food from the buffet at the end of the pavilion that was close to the kitchens.

After they had eaten, the rest of the day went with watching Gruinor and Gimli combat on the training grounds, visiting Tinco and Arod, and then returning to the house to lay the twins down for a nap while he helped Gimli prepare dinner, mostly just keeping him company as the dwarf refused to let him touch anything.

By the time, knocks sounded from the door, they had a stew simmering away over the fireplace and a loaf of bread baking in the stone oven. Caladel and Naruvir, who had waken some time beforehand and were playing with Lossë, immediately rushed to the door and flew into their parents' arms as it opened and Maliel and Elrohir entered.

"Nana! Ada!" They cried out, smiling hugely at their momentarily shocked parents before beginning to talk simultaneously in their eagerness to tell them everything that had happened while they were away. "Grandpa took us out fishing and when we returned Gimli had arrived and a big feast was held for him! We got to stay up late and when it was time for bed, we slept with grandpa up in the old tree, every night! And yesterday we stayed in the house because it was raining and Gimli taught us this game that the dwarves play and you'll just have to play it with us! It's where…"

The twins continued in an inexhaustible stream of explanations as to how the game was played and who had won, and how, and what had happened thereafter, and the rain clearing up, and that they had gone out and played in the mud, and so on, and so on…

"And we helped Granddad and Isilmë pick apples today, but Yúcalë sometimes stole ones before we could pluck them, and Isilmë was forced to chase him through the trees! And this morning we woke up, and there was a dragon in the house! But it was only Gimli snoring really loudly!"

Gimli almost dropped the pot of stew on the way from the fireplace to the table, grimacing he quickly righted himself and pretended that nothing had happened, ignoring Legolas' muffed chuckles.

"And we got to watch Gruinor and Gimli fight with real axes! There were like whoosh, and slash, and hiyaah! And Grandpa wanted to make us bathe this morning, but we threw him in with us, and he said that we looked like snoweleves. But we didn't, did we Naruvir? No, we didn't. And when it was done Grandpa made us bread with honey! It was really yummy! He gave us bread with honey every morning but we're supposed to tell you that he gave us porridge."

It was Legolas turn to almost burn himself on the bread as he took it out of the oven.

"Can we have bread and honey every morning? It's a lot better than porridge. We like honey. Could we have some, Nana? It not then maybe-"

"Caladel, Naruvir," Legolas interrupted with a large, improvised smile on his lips, "Why don't we let your Ada and Nana come inside before you talk their ears off. I'm sure that they're not interested in every small detail of your stay."

"Oh, but we are," Elrohir said seriously, although Legolas could see the amused twinkling in his grey eyes. He smiled to his sons, "I look forward to hearing every last bit of it." He then looked at Legolas with a barely suppressed chuckle. "But I think, perhaps, that your grandfather is right. Let us close the door and get out of our cloaks first."

Caladel and Naruvir both nodded and gave their parents one last hug before sliding back the ground, allowing Maliel and Elrohir to step inside and get out of their cloaks.

As he walked closer, Legolas eyes softened at the clear change he saw to Maliel and Elrohir's auras. Both seemed to be shimmering in the wake of their trip alone, their auras brighter.

Once out of her cloak, Maliel kneeled before her sons and embraced them warmly. "We missed you dearly," she said to them, kissing their foreheads in turn. Caladel and Naruvir seemed to soak in their mother's love, smiling and leaning into her just as they did with their father as he took Maliel's place when she stood.

"Thank you for looking after them, Ada," Maliel said and walked up to him, hugging him and kissing his cheek, sky blue eyes gazing thankfully and amused into his. "Although I fear it will be some time before they stop begging for sugar in the morning."

"I'm their grandfather," Legolas responded with a feral grin, "I'm supposed to spoil them and make parenting more difficult for you. It's in my job description."

Both Maliel and Elrohir chuckled at that and whilst Maliel went on to greeting Gimli, Elrohir clasped Legolas' forearm and thanked him as well before turning to Gimli as well. It wasn't long before all of them were sitting around the dining table, eating bowls of stew served with freshly baked bread.

"Please tell me that my father has had nothing to do with cooking this," Maliel pleaded, chuckling, before daring to taste the food.

"Don't you worry, my fair lady," Gimli said gruffly. "I kept him far away from the meal. There was no way the pointy-eared princeling was ever going to get past me and my axes."

Maliel laughed outright at that. "Thank you for your valiant protection, Gimli," she said with a loving smile, immediately making Gimli blush and fidget in his seat.

"I would have you know that my cooking is more than satisfactory, thank you very much," Legolas said absentmindedly as he dug into the tasty stew. "I'm beginning to get the hang of it after living here on my own. You would know that if you would just try it."

"No thank you," Elrohir chuckled between spoonfuls. "I value my life too much. Alfirin saying that it tastes good doesn't qualify as a valid opinion, I once saw him eating pinecones and moss without batting an eyelash."

"Alfirin isn't the only one," Legolas grinned cat-like. "Caladel, Naruvir, you like my cooking, don't you?"

The twins paused in the middle of eating eagerly, looking up at him with innocent eyes, clearly not having heard a word of their conversation. After blinking a few times, they just nodded and went back to their meal.

"See?" Legolas asked, his smile growing. "I told you so."

"Say what you like, I'm still not trying it," Elrohir chuckled.

"Gimli will try it," Legolas spoke suddenly, turning to the suddenly choking dwarf. "After all where would the stoutness of the dwarven heart be, if he did not dare eat a completely innocent meal? As a thanks for the meal tonight, I'll serve you one tomorrow of my own making."

Unable to slither out of the situation given the fact that his courage was in question, Gimli played right into Legolas' hand. "Of course I will," Gimli said, trying and failing to sound unconcerned. "What can be the harm in a single meal?" Before Legolas could press him into more he quickly changed the subject. "So how was your trip?"

"It was more than satisfactory," Elrohir answered as Maliel's cheeks were suddenly flaming. "We had a wonderful time. The cabin laid just at the edge of a clearing and there was a small pond where we could go swimming. We spent a lot of our time riding in the forest."

"I see," Gimli said, too calmly if one reckoned the grin on his lips. "And who amongst you do you reckon did the most _riding_."

Surprisingly, despite her flaming cheeks, it was Maliel who answered, looking up at Gimli with blazing, sky blue eyes, "I would have you know that Elrohir and I are quite equal in such matters, thank you very much Master Dwarf."

Elrohir immediately choked on his laughter, smiling broadly at his wife and taking her hand in his. On the other hand, it was Gimli's turn to blush, before he too laughed.

"She's certainly your daughter, Laddie," Gimli grinned to Legolas.

Legolas only shook his head with a melancholic smile on his lips, "No, she's her mother's daughter." He could have sworn that he had seen a glint of amber in Maliel's eyes.

"Ada, can I please have some more bread?" Naruvir asked innocently, his silver eyes looking pleadingly into his father's matching ones.

Elrohir smiled gently to Naruvir, his eyes bespeaking his proudness, and reached out to break another piece off the loaf of bread before handing it to Naruvir. Seeing this, Caladel thrust out his hands as well, one of them still holding an unfinished lump of bread. "Me too!" he demanded with a toothy smile.

Elrohir fought down a chuckle as he answered, "Not until you've finished what you have, and not until you say please."

"But Adaaaaaaa!" Caladel whined.

"Nothing you can say will sway me," Elrohir grinned.

Caladel immediately turned his eyes to Maliel, widening them endearingly. "Nana?"

"Listen to your father," Maliel told him amused, unaffected by Caladel's pleading.

Caladel immediately scowled and turned back to his stew, moodily pushing it around in his bowl with a pout on his face. A very soft smile turned the corners of Elrohir's lips upwards as he saw Caladel's lip begin to quiver as tears gathered in his eyes.

Legolas watched as Elrohir squeezed Maliel's hand before getting to his feet and walking over to Caladel's chair and lifting him into his arms. Elrohir then walked over to the couch and sat down on it with Caladel in his lap, talking to him gently. While he did this, Maliel moved closer to Naruvir and brushed her fingers through his hair, diverting his attention from his twin.

"Caladel will be back in a moment," Maliel said gently. "How about you tell me what the two of you have been up to today while you finish your dinner?"

Naruvir began talking, haltingly at first, about how they had picked apples and Isilmë and Yúcalë's antics. Before long Elrohir brought Caladel back, having managed to boost his son's mood once more. Caladel joined in on Naruvir's tale and the rest of the dinner passed with the sound of their childish voices.

After Legolas cleared the table, they moved to the couch arrangement and talked there until the young twins were falling asleep cuddling against their parents, tired out by the day's events and their parents' return.

"We should take them home," Maliel said softly as the sky began to turn dark. She lifted the dozing Naruvir into her arms just as Elrohir did the same with Caladel. "Thank you so much for looking after them, Ada."

"It was nothing," Legolas answered, standing as well. He found the bags that the twins had brought with them and handed them to Elrohir and Maliel, before following them towards the door. "It was a joy having them around, I'm afraid it will be rather quiet around here with them gone."

"Not I we 'ave somethin' ta say 'bout it," a voice came from the doorway.

Legolas turned and saw Gruinor leaning against the doorway holding up four bottles of mead. "Not tonight at least," Gruinor grinned wickedly.

Legolas groaned. "I thought that I said that whatever it was you were going to ask that my answer would be 'no'?" he asked.

"It will be good for ya, laddie," Gimli chuckled, suddenly by his side and pulling him back towards the couch.

"I trust that you'll take good care of him, yes?" Maliel asked, amused.

Gruinor looked at her and gave her a wide smile, "Don't ya worry about 'im, Princess. We'll look after him."

* * *

Translation for the song:

 _Deep in the mighty forest_

 _There is an old willow_

 _Instead of hands he has branches_

 _Instead of hair he has leaves_

 _Instead of skin he has bark_

 _How he wished it were different_

 _._

 _Deep in the mighty forest_

 _There danced a fair maiden_

 _White is her dress that flows_

 _White are her feet bare that fly_

 _White are her teeth that lift in smile_

 _How he wished she was his_

 _._

 _Deep in the mighty forest_

 _She touched his bark_

 _He could feel it in his spirit_

 _He could feel it in his core_

 _He could feel it in his roots_

 _How he loved her_

 _._

 _Deep in the mighty forest_

 _The maiden fair danced away_

 _Calling but she could not hear him_

 _Calling but his voice was voiceless_

 _Calling but not reaching her_

 _How he wished he was a man_

 _._

 _Deep in the mighty forest_

 _There is an old willow_

 _Instead of hands he has branches_

 _Instead of hair he has leaves_

 _Instead of skin he has bark_

 _How he wished it were different_


	11. Legacy

**Chapter eleven – Legacy**

"I tol' the dwarf that 'e couldn' beat me!" Gruinor declared, laughing uproariously as he gulped down more mead. "No one! Do ya 'ear me Cap'ain? No one, 'as beat Gruinor the great!"

"I seem to remember beating your sorry arse more times than I care to admit!" Legolas stated with a gleeful grin on his face, balancing precariously on the back of the couch, upon which Gimli was snoring enough to waken the dead. The dwarf had halfway slid off it so his head and shoulders rested upon the grass.

Gruinor was sprawled out in the armchair with a bottle in each hand, his cheeks flushed and his eyes becoming glassy from intoxication. "An' that's why it was bloody borin' till you came 'long, Cap'ain!" Gruinor groaned and hiccupped, before breaking out into another bout of boisterous laughter. "Those pipsqueaks were so easy ta beat! It was borin'!"

"You need more excuse than the fact that you were bored to start a fight club every night in the smithy where you worked, challenging anyone and everyone to try and beat you!" Legolas snorted amused, pointing accusingly at Gruinor. "If the amount of complaints and grievances hadn't reached my ears when they did then I don't now what would have happened."

"Oh it would've been fine," Gruinor brushed off gruffly. "What's life withou' a little darin'? All of them elves could just'ave pulled 'emselves together and beaten me! I'as gettin' bored of always winnin'."

"Thought you were going to win against me too, didn't you?" Legolas asked with a feral grin, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Ya taught me ne'er…" Gruinor yawned hugely before placing one of the bottles to his lips and draining it in long gulps. When it was empty he let out a sigh and flung it aside before continuing, "ta make that mistake 'gain."

 _Legolas walked over the grass towards the cluster of houses in which the smithy was situated. Weariness had settled like a weight in his chest, having just come home from a month long patrol earlier that same night. Barely had he made it to his room before he was pounced on by first his father and then Aewon. The complaints his father barked out about the activities going on in said smithy were in contrast to the excited speech Aewon held about how he had found someone who seemed like a candidate for the team that they were building._

 _With a sigh, he reached up and gathered his dirty hair together at the back of his head even as he kept walking. He tied off the high ponytail with a leather band and rubbed his hands over his face before lowering them once more. He supposed that the fact that he was still somewhat covered in dirt and that his eyes had darkened would keep too many from recognizing him._

 _As he drew nearer to the smithy, he could hear the ruckus that was keeping the neighbors up at night. There were clear sounds of people fighting, as well as the sound of a crowd chanting and edging the participants on. It only grew louder as he walked the rest of the way up to the stone house._

 _Light blinded him from the fire in the furnace as he pushed the door open and stepped inside, unseen because everyone was focused on the fight in the middle of the circle that they had formed. Pushing his way through the intoxicated onlookers, he finally gained view of the equally inebriated fighters. From the description Aewon had given him, he quickly turned his attention to the more muscular of the two elves that were fighting._

 _The elf's brown hair was braided down his back and his jade eyes looked tauntingly at his opponent as they exchanged blows in the middle of the circle. The fact that he was a smith was evident in his upper body strength as well as his coarse hands and the fact that he seemed to be covered in soot from the furnace._

 _Legolas watched as he goaded his opponent mercilessly with brusque comments until the smaller elf ran towards him in anger, guard lowered. He winced inwardly as the foolish elf was pounded to the ground instantly by one of those blacksmith's hands. Victorious, the elf only gave a snort of disdain before turning to the whooping crowd._

" _Who's next?" he called out gruffly. When no one came forward immediately he provoked by saying, "Come now! There must by one of ya miserable little sods that have the guts ta challenge me? There mus' be one of ya who's not as borin' as all the rest! I'm lookin' for a challenge!"_

 _The crowd scuttled on their feet, refusing to meet the elf's eyes. Almost like they were afraid he was going to call them out as soon as they made eye contact. From his point of view, Legolas could see that many of them were already sporting bruises, probably having tempted fate trying to please this elf's need for some excitement._

 _Turning his attention from the crowd and back to the elf, he watched as those jade eyes swept through the people that surrounded him, not able to make eye contact with anyone. It wasn't long before jade met cerulean head on. Legolas didn't so much as flinch as they locked gazes, but looked back impassively as the elf gazed at him, surprised and slightly confused. This state only lasted a moment, though, before a wolfish smile broadened on his lips._

" _You!" the elf called out and pointed at him. "Fight me!"_

 _The elves in the crowd swirled around to look at him as he suddenly became the center of attention, all of them showing sympathy in their eyes. Legolas ignored the glances and focused completely on his challenger for a long moment before, with a soft, weary sigh, he stepped out of the crowd and into the circle. For a while, he ignored the elf as he walked calmly over to the downed elf, checking his vitals before asking a few of the onlookers to take him to the healers._

 _It was first when this was done, that he turned his attention back to the elf that was looking at him with a mixture of bewilderment and excitement._

" _I am afraid that I do not know the given rules of these skirmishes," Legolas said calmly. It didn't seem as if anyone had recognized him yet, his slightly changed appearance and the fact that he had been away on patrol a lot during the last ten or so years no doubt being the reason._

 _The elf's eyebrows went up before he suddenly threw back his head and barked out laughter. It took a while for him to clam down, but when he did he said, "There are no rules 'cept that there're no weapons allowed, an' you win when the 'pponent has either admitted defeat or been knocked sideways. I've promis'd a gold piece to anyone who can make the fight worthwhile."_

 _Legolas nodded in understanding. He reached up and unclasped his cloak before proceeding to rid his person of weapon, laying them down on the worn, blue fabric. Eyebrows were raised as he drew out first a dagger from his lower back, then his boots, then his wrist, and lastly two hidden in his belt. He hadn't had the time to rid himself of them since coming back._

 _He then folded them in his cloak and handed the package to a stunned spectator before turning back to the elf before him. "Instead of money," he said, "how about we say that if I make this interesting for you then you will consider joining a band of renegades that I'm creating?"_

 _The elf's eyes were sparkling with anticipation by now and he asked, "Jus' who that hell are ya?"_

 _Legolas smiled in response. "Perhaps I'll tell you if you beat me," he answered._

 _This sent his opponent into another fit of boisterous laughter. "I've beaten every single person that has stood before me! Why should you be any different? Ya don't look all that brawny ta me."_

" _Some things are about more than brawn," Legolas answered. He was beginning to become fond of the elf. "Aren't we supposed to be fighting? Or perhaps it is suddenly you who is looking to buy time?"_

" _Not'a chance in hell, boy," the elf grinned before crouching slightly as he moved into position. Legolas watched this without any emotion in his eyes, standing straight with his arms down his sides. Nothing gave away what kind of fighter he was._

 _Taken aback, the elf took a step to the side, which Legolas instantly mirrored as they began to circle each other slowly._

" _I bet you've ne'er been outside yer mother's skirts yet? Have ya, boy?" the elf taunted, seeking a reaction from him. "I bet yer too scared to make the firs' move, aren't ya?"_

" _Oh, by all means," Legolas answered calmly. "You're the challenger, it's only proper that you get the first attack."_

 _His opponent growled deep in his throat, flustered that his techniques weren't working, before pouncing at him, drawing back his fist and swinging it towards his face. Legolas sidestepped at the last moment and knocked away the elf's arm with a quick rap even as he placed his hand against the elf's stomach. This all happened in the instant before he danced aside and came to stand behind the elf._

 _Immediately, after regaining his momentum, the elf whirled around and looked at him wide-eyed._

" _You're wide open," Legolas stated. "Is this why you goad your opponents into attacking first?"_

 _The elf blinked before slowly a large grin spread out upon his lips. "Interesting," he said; his eyes gleaming._

" _Come," Legolas said and waved the elf towards him. "Try again."_

 _The elf flew at him once more in a flurry of fists and kicks this time, throwing everything he could against him. Legolas blocked the attacks steadily before swinging under the elf's arm and coming up behind him, tapping him on the back. With a snarl, the elf whirled around and aimed a fist towards his chest._

 _Legolas caught the fist with his hand, feeling the vibrations travel through his arm and into his chest. "Good," Legolas approved. "You're not fast, but you're strong."_

" _Who the hell, are ya?" the elf asked breathlessly as he launched another attack against Legolas. Legolas continued to avoid or block the attacks all the while constantly tapping or aiming light punches at the places that the elf were leaving wide open._

" _I told you that I would tell you if you win," Legolas answered. "Try again."_

 _Gruinor smirked gleefully at the challenge and threw himself at Legolas once more, putting his whole weight behind the blows and attempting to move faster. It was all too clear, though, that the elf had also indulged in a couple of pints before fighting. Nevertheless, there was potential._

 _Legolas had barely rebuffed this latest attempt before the door slammed open and the Master Blacksmith of the smithy stepped into the room, bellowing, "GRUINOR!"_

 _Distracted, Legolas jerked his head towards the sound only to see from the corner of his eye as his opponent threw another punch towards him. Instinct immediately took over. Legolas leaned backwards, before grabbing the arm and twisting it mercilessly behind the elf's back, all the while tripping him. The elf fell heavily to the ground, Legolas' knee against his back and his arm still held in that vice-like grip. Everything happened so fast that the elf barely had a moment to react before he was slammed into the ground._

" _Did I not tell you last week that if something like this EVER happened again then I would kick your sorry arse to the moon and back!" the blacksmith yelled as he began barreling through the quickly fleeing crowd. "Just you wait until I get my hands on you, you miscreant! I'll flay the skin from your backside before I'm through with you!"_

" _Is this the moment for a quick getaway?" Legolas asked calmly from his position on top of the elf, Gruinor as he had just found out, seeing that the circle of elves around them was in a frenzy to get away. For the moment they were doing a decent job of blocking the angry blacksmith._

" _This is exactly the moment," Gruinor answered wheezily._

 _With a nod, Legolas thrust the arm that wasn't holding Gruinor's arm in place under his chest and quickly pulled them both their feet. One of the fleeing elves threw the bundle with Legolas' cloak and weapons to Legolas as he ran past, making Legolas forego the grip he had on Gruinor so he could catch it._

 _Immediately, Gruinor reached back and took hold of Legolas' arm, swiftly leading him further into the smithy and away from his Master. Legolas didn't protest but followed him as he led him up the stairs to the loft and over to a window in the roof. As they heard the Blacksmith thundering up the stairs, Gruinor opened the window and jumped out without hesitation, lading on top of a pile of firewood stacked against the side of the building._

 _Legolas hesitated only a moment but then followed him, agilely running down the logs to where Gruinor was waiting at their foot. At that moment, the enraged Blacksmith stuck his head out of the window and yelled profanities at them, promising death and pain._

" _He'll be in a slightly better mood in the mornin'," Gruinor said cheerfully._

" _Do you have anywhere to go?" Legolas asked._

 _Gruinor chuckled. "Nowhere he won't find me."_

 _Legolas stood indecisively for a moment but then sighed and waved for Gruinor to follow. The stomping of the Blacksmith hurrying back towards the entrance of the smithy was easily left behind as they ran towards the Halls._

 _Legolas first signaled for a halt when they entered a small cluster of trees. While Gruinor caught his breath, he laid down his bundled up cloak on the ground, uncovering his weapons and placing them back where they belonged. When this was done, he shook out the cloak and draped it around Gruinor's shoulder, pulling up the hood._

" _Where're ya taking me?" Gruinor asked._

" _Into the Halls," Legolas answered curtly and began a more sedate pace as they walked over the last stretch of grass before the entrance to the Halls. "To my rooms."_

" _You've yer own rooms inside the Halls?" Gruinor asked warily. "Who are ya?"_

" _I'm sorry," Legolas responded apologetically. "I had planned to ease you into this, but it seems that you are in need of refuge and he won't look for you where you're going. Besides, I would like to talk with you. My name is-"_

" _Your Highness!" A guard came rushing towards them. Legolas felt the urge to sigh once more as he saw Gruinor tense beside him, in his tiredness he seemed to be doing it a lot._

 _Nevertheless, he immediately focused his attention of the guard, who seemed to have been looking for him for some time, if one counted the relief in his expression before he gave him a short bow._

" _The King has asked me to find my Prince, and ask you if it was possible for you to write the report of the latest patrol in time for the Council meeting at the ninth hour tomorrow," the guard reported._

" _I see," Legolas answered, once more feeling that urge to sigh. "Is my father still up so that I can give him my answer?"_

" _Nay, my Prince," the guard said. "King Thranduil and Queen Emelin have both retired for the night."_

" _All right," Legolas acknowledged. "Thank you for delivering the message."_

 _Dismissed, the guard bowed before moving away from them once more. Turning his attention back to the elf beside him, Legolas gazed silently into Gruinor's jade eyes, waiting for whatever reaction he was going to get._

" _So I suddenly find myself in the company of royalty, don't I?" Gruinor asked dryly, arching an eyebrow._

" _I certainly do seem to remember kneeling on someone's back earlier this evening," Legolas answered just as dryly._

 _Gruinor threw back his head at that and laughed uproariously, the kind of laughter that one couldn't help but follow. Suppressing his laughter to a smile, Legolas waited for him to calm down before stretching out his hand and saying, "You may not have won the fight, Gruinor, but my name is Legolas Thranduilion."_

" _Gruinor Braigion," Gruinor responded, taking Legolas' hand and given it a firm shake. "At leas' I was till my parents died on the field o' Dagorlad and left me as 'pprentice of that ol' man, who – by the way – is an excellent hunter, so per'aps we could move to yer quarters now, Prince?"_

" _Follow me."_

 _They walked over the rest of the green and through the great doors that led into the Halls. Legolas suppressed a smile at how Gruinor gazed at everything around them, only turning his attention as various people stepped up to Legolas and welcomed him home, reported something, or asked something of him._

 _To Legolas it seemed like ages before they finally reached the privacy of the Royal wing. The guards on either side of the hallway looked skeptically at Gruinor but didn't say anything as Legolas led him past. Just when he thought he could make it the rest of the way to his room a voice echoed through the hallway._

" _Legolas, you scoundrel!" Hithel said, with a sweet smile on her lips, as the platinum-haired princess walked towards him. When she was close enough she hugged him tightly around the neck and kissed his cheek before looking at him with those big aquamarine eyes of hers. "You've been gone for a whole month and despite the fact that you've only been back a few hours you already ran off once more. I didn't even catch you before you were gone, brother!"_

" _Well, you see, sister," Legolas responded endearingly, smiling back to Hithel before throwing his head slightly in Gruinor's direction. "I had a bit of business to attend to."_

 _Hithel turned her eyes to the figure beside Legolas, her eyes widening as they landed on Gruinor, half-dressed, muscular, and sooty as he was. Gruinor reached up and drew back the hood of the cloak Legolas had loaned him, and grinned as Hithel as she just short of jumped away from her brother._

 _Reaching out, Gruinor carefully took Hithel's delicate hand in his large one and bent down to place a kiss upon it. "My Princess, you're even more gorgeous then the rumors say," he said charmingly, looking up at her with gleaming, jade eyes as he held on to her hand for a few seconds too long before releasing it._

 _A blush had crept up on Hithel's cheeks, but she curtsied. "I thank you, sir," she responded politely. "Your remarks are too kind. I do not remember seeing you before…?"_

" _Gruinor," Gruinor offered with a positively wolfish grin on his lips. "I've always lived in the outskirts, Princess, but now I've decided to look in…skirts."_

 _Hithel's blush deepened, covering her alabaster cheeks and the tips of her pointed ears in red. Gruinor seemed to have forgotten completely whom he was standing beside until Legolas cuffed him hard over the head and grabbed his neck firmly. As he looked to the side, he was Legolas smiling a smile that, although outwardly sweet, sent cold shivers down his spine at the predatory gleam that shone through it._

" _I think it's time we went in and discussed business, don't you?" Legolas asked sweetly, his voice making sweat appear on Gruinor's neck._

" _Anythin' ya say, sir," Gruinor responded meekly._

 _Legolas then turned his attention back to Hithel, his smile once more turning soft. "I'm sorry, I will make sure that I am at breakfast tomorrow. I will probably be busy all day after that, though, and the day after. But I will make sure that we have time to do something just the two of us the day after that, before I leave once more."_

 _Hithel's expression fell at that, her aquamarine eyes becoming clouded with both worry and sorrow. "You're leaving again in three days?"_

 _Desperate to get the sadness out of her eyes, Legolas let go of Gruinor's neck and moved forward, wrapping his arms around Hithel's waist and quickly twirling her around until she was laughing in his ear. Then he placed her on the ground and smiled before saying, "Unfortunately. But how about I delay my departure to the evening and then you and I can spend almost the whole day together?"_

" _You won't get very far then," Hithel chuckled._

" _Nonsense," Legolas answered. "I'll just ride through the night. It will be fine." He leaned forward and placed a kiss against her forehead, "Go to sleep, Hith."_

 _She nodded and hugged him one last time before moving back towards her room. Legolas watched her go for a moment before gesturing for Gruinor to follow him as he walked the rest of the way to his own and stepped inside, holding the door for the other elf._

" _I'm sorry, it's a bit messy," Legolas said as he closed the door behind them. Papers were lying scattered upon his desk, sofa, sofa table, and floor, strewn in his effort to find the reports that he had needed right before he had left on the month long patrol. In addition to this his saddlebag had just been thrown onto the floor and his moody boots still stood beside the door, waiting to be cleaned. His weapons had been strung over the back of one of his chairs._

" _You've been busy, Prince?" Gruinor asked gruffly. Legolas moved forward and quickly gathered up all of the papers, dumping them onto his desk._

" _No more than usual," Legolas answered with a small smile and gestured for Gruinor to take a seat. Amusement filled him as his eyes caught the small drunken waver in the elf's steps before he plopped himself down on the sofa. He sat down in the armchair across from him._

 _Barely a minute passed, in which Gruinor eyed him pensively, before the elf abruptly stated, "I need ta relieve myself."_

 _Snorting in amusement, Legolas pointed him towards the bathroom. Gruinor nodded and pushed himself up from the sofa, Legolas standing up with him. At Gruinor's questioning glance, he said, "I'm going to change and see if I can find a shirt that will fit you."_

 _Barking out a laugh, Gruinor bowed extravagantly in front of Legolas before waltzing over to the bathroom. Legolas eyed him with a raised eyebrow before walking into his bedroom, sighing at the unmade bed and the mess inside._

 _The maids had long since given up on his rooms…_

 _Walking over to the closet, he pulled his tunic over his head, followed swiftly by his undershirt, both of which were muddy after the patrol. He opened the door to his closet and searched the shelves for something that would fit Gruinor's superior bulk. By the time he pulled something out, the door to the bathroom opened once more and a satisfied sigh drifted through the rooms. He grinned._

" _Prince?" Gruinor called._

" _I'm in here," Legolas answered and moved towards the door once more, Gruinor met him at the doorway. "And there is no need to call me 'Prince', I respond just fine to Legolas," he said and handed him the shirt._

" _As ya say, Prince," Gruinor quipped in response, taking the shirt with a broad grin before taking off Legolas' cloak and beginning to pull it on. He halted, though, as Legolas turned his back and walked back to the closet, his eyes glued solemnly to the long cut displayed on Legolas' lower back. The cut was held together with crude stitches, which seemed like they were ready to be taken out as the wound was almost healed._

" _Ya fought me with that?" Gruinor asked soberly._

 _Legolas startled slightly in taking an undershirt out of the closet and one of his hands strayed to his back, touching the wound as if he had forgotten that it was there. He stood silent for a moment but then went ahead with donning the undershirt. "It's nearly healed," he said as he pulled the shirt over his head before turning to Gruinor, smiling. "It doesn't matter anymore. The orc came out of the fight looking much worse than I did."_

 _Gruinor stared at him for a moment and then burst into laughter once again, continuing even as he pulled the shirt Legolas had given him over his head and headed into the sitting room. Legolas followed, shaking his head, and watched as Gruinor flung himself onto one of the couches._

" _In the last few years one of my friends, Aewon, and I have had the idea of forming an elite team out of unlikely candidates, which could rise above the normal patrol standard," Legolas began as he sat down in the armchair before the couch. "So far we've gathered a few elves who are interested: Ecthel, Osbon, and Thand. There hasn't been that much activity yet, but in a few months training will officially start. Aewon and one of my comrades Húron have agreed to help. If the team ever reaches the elite then it is likely that it will tasked with some rather dangerous missions, and I cannot promise you that-"_

" _Interesting!" Gruinor proclaimed suddenly, his eyes blazing and a wolfish grin on his lips as he looked fiercely at Legolas. "I'll do it!"_

 _Legolas blinked in surprise but his expression quickly softened, a weary chuckle escaping his lips. He stood up. "Perhaps it would be better to wait for your answer in the morning when you're sober once more," he said and picked up a blanket before draping it over Gruinor. "Go to sleep. I have some work that I need to get done."_

" _Aye, aye, Cap'ain!" Gruinor responded gruffly, his eyes already drooping._

 _Legolas closed his eyes as he walked to his desk, running his hand over his face. A smile tugged at his lips when he almost immediately heard soft snores come from the couch he had just left. Dropping into his seat, he pulled out a few blank sheets of parchment and began writing a report of the patrol he had been on._

 _This continued a while into the night and the morning after when he woke with his head pillowed on his arms on the desk, he could not remember ever making the conscious choice of laying his head down. To his surprise, a blanket had been draped over his shoulders and as he looked towards the couch he saw that it was empty once more._

 _For a moment, he thought that Gruinor had regretted everything the moment he had woken, but then he noticed a note that had writing on one of his papers._

' _As if I'd run from the prospects o' danger, Cap'ain. Gone ta sort it out with the ol' man.'_

Legolas smiled at the memory and focused once more on Gruinor, only to see that the elf had succumbed to sleep, soft snores flowing from his mouth and his hand loosened dangerously around the bottle of mead he still held.

A pearly laugh sprung from Legolas' lips as he vaulted to his feet on the back of the sofa, balancing precariously as he skipped from one end to the other before leaping up to grip one of the branches overhead. Effortlessly, he pulled himself up and ran its length before hurtling himself out of the canopy, landing in a roll on the grass outside.

A haze seemed to cover his mind, making his head feel heavy and light at the very same time. He could feel self-restraint resting just beneath the surface and had no doubt that he could draw from it if he wanted to. But as he didn't feel the urge to do so, he just followed his instincts as he turned and _ran_.

Grass rolled by underneath his feet, trees flew past, and the wind ripped through his long silvery-white hair. It was clear night, the stars and moon white against the blackness of the sky, illuminating the world around him. Feeling the more restrained Sindar part of him give way to his wood-elven, he vaulted himself into the nearest tree, having left the city behind and ventured into the denser forest.

The trees around him sang as he jumped from one to the other, placing his hands upon their back and nurturing them with his energy. The rustling of leaves was heard as the ancient, white trees sang in chorus, the canopy shimmering white and green.

"I should have known that it was you who was creating such an uproar," Alfirin voice came dully from the ground.

Without warning, Legolas sprung down from the tree he was standing in and halfway landed on Alfirin, throwing his arms around his so violently that the elf had to take a step back in other to maintain his balance. Alfirin groaned inwardly as he awkwardly patted Legolas' back.

Legolas didn't seem to take any notice of this as he pulled slightly back from Alfirin, grinning at him widely. "Alf, what're you doing here?"

Alfirin's eyebrow twitched but he managed to keep his annoyance in leash, his yellow and green eyes staring intently into Legolas'. "You are drunk," he then said stoically, placing one of his hands against Legolas' cheek and slowly running his thumb along Legolas' cheekbone.

Legolas' grin only grew. "Can I sleep with you?" he asked abruptly

"No," Alfirin deadpanned.

"But Alfirin," Legolas whined in response, widening his sapphire eyes.

"I happen to enjoy my solitude and having a drunken elfling intrude on my domain is not how I envisioned my night," Alfirin answered in his melodic voice. "In fact I have promised the tree in which my talan is that I would sing to it tonight."

Legolas' smile quickly returned as he proclaimed easily, "I will sing with you then, come Alfirin." He took his old minder's hand and began pulling him in the direction of Alfirin's residence, a little walk from where they were, outside the borders of the elven city.

Alfirin grumbled under his breath before abruptly pulling his hand out of Legolas. Without pausing, he ran the nearest tree and swung catlike onto its lowest branch. Here he stopped and crouched, a feral grin upon his lips as he looked down at Legolas.

"Come then, elfling," he challenged, his yellow and green eyes glowing in the moonlight. "Or are you too drunk to balance in the treetops?"

Legolas returned the grin. "Never," he whispered and leapt just as nimbly into one of the trees, following Alfirin effortlessly as the wood-elf jumped, ran, and swung himself from branch to branch in the direction of his home.

As they reached the talan, Legolas vaulted himself directly from the branch he was standing on and onto the place where Alfirin had made his bed, stretching catlike on the thin mattress. Compared to this, Alfirin stepped calmly onto the platform suspended in the young tree that had become his companion.

Seeing Legolas already beginning to fall asleep on his bed, he looked beseechingly to the heavens while muttering a prayer for strength under his breath. Legolas wasn't fooled, though, and the sleepy smile that spread out on his lips showed that he had caught the amusement the danced underneath the irritation in those hawk-like eyes.

Alfirin moved closer to the trunk of the tree, sitting down next to the bed and using the tree as backrest. Legolas immediately rolled onto his side, shifting closer until his forehead was almost resting against Alfirin's thigh.

 _You came back!_ The young tree greeted enthusiastically. _Will you sing now?_

"Indeed I shall," Alfirin answered softly. "Though I doubt I will get much help from this drunken elfling."

"I will help," Legolas muttered sleepily, turning his head briefly to smile at Alfirin.

Alfirin just snorted and shook his head before placing his hand against Legolas' head, gently pushing it back. He didn't remove his hand, though, and kept it resting upon Legolas' hair as he began singing a haunting Nandorin lullaby.

Legolas sleepily murmured along, watching the gently swaying trees that surrounded them through half-lidded eyes. The moon and stars shone through the canopy. It wasn't long before Alfirin began moving his hand comfortingly through his hair, dancing his fingers over his forehead and smoothing them over his eyebrow, before moving them over his cheek and back to his hair.

The song washed over him as Alfirin continued to run his fingers soothingly over his hair and face, gently and effectively lulling him to sleep.

O

When he woke it was to a deep pounding in his head, only worsened by the sunlight that shone through the canopy. It was early morning. Groaning, he clenched his eyes shut and lifted his hand to lay it over them like a shield.

It was a while before he removed his hand once more, opening his eyes tentatively and taking in his surroundings. For a second he couldn't remember where in the name of the Valar he had ended up, but as he turned and saw Alfirin lying peacefully beside him on the mattress he remembered what had happened the night before and another groan left him.

Alfirin was lying on his stomach, his head resting on one of his arms, having moved from the trunk to the other side of the mattress some time during the night. His eyes were unfocussed in elven dreams, forest green with a yellow ring around the pupil. Tenderness welled up in Legolas as he remembered how Alfirin had lulled him to sleep and he gently reached out to brush his old minder's white hair behind his ear.

He was not the only one touched by war and hardship… Alfirin was also having difficulties adapting to the new world. Having been his minder for a large part of his life, Alfirin had seen – and been a part of – things that no one should see or be a part of.

He could remembered hearing Alfirin's frantic voice over him speaking of soothing things while he was being rocked in his minders arms, his blood falling onto the forest floor. Could remember throwing Alfirin's lifeless body over his shoulder and carrying him through the forest, trying desperately to reach the Halls while trying to ignore the way his minder's blood soaked through the back of his tunic. And he could remember countless over incidents…

He was jerked out of his recollections as he felt Alfirin grab his wrist tightly. Blinking in surprise, he stared into Alfirin's alert and wild eyes before turning his gaze to where Alfirin was holding him. Unknowingly, it seemed that his fingers had travelled to one of the scars that crossed his wrist and had begun scratching it while lost in memories.

Flushing, Legolas jerked his hand away and pulled down his sleeve before turning onto his back, wincing as his headache flared.

"Valar, what have I done to myself?" Legolas moaned as he clutched his head. "Just how much did I drink last night?"

Alfirin didn't answer though as he shifted onto his side. When Legolas did the same once more, he reached out for Legolas' hands, drawing them gently towards him before pushing up his sleeves. He gazed sadly at the multiple, old scars that cut across Legolas' wrists. Gently, he extended a finger and ran it lightly over one of them, feeling Legolas tense under his grip and looking up in time to catch the flinch that crossed the younger elf's features.

"Sívë, Titta Lassë," Alfirin murmured. He took a breath and blew gently on Legolas' wrists, a dull whistle escaping his lips. The gesture instantly made Legolas relax, from a wood elf it was something that meant acceptance or used when honoring or showing one's respect for something or someone. [Peace, Little Leaf.]

Alfirin then reached up and brushed his hand over Legolas' hair, automatically making his eyes fall shut once more. When he forced them open he saw Alfirin grinning at him.

"So I suppose I won't have to punish you myself for everything I suffered last evening?" Alfirin stated with his eyes gleaming with amusement. He reached out and flicked Legolas' forehead, causing him to yelp and shift away, ultimately rolling off the thin mattress.

With what must have been his third groan already, Legolas feebly pushed himself up from the floor, getting to his feet. "I'm going to Maliel's, seeing that there is no mercy from you this morning," Legolas said, mock-glaring at Alfirin.

His minder only gave him a feral grin and a wave so Legolas shook his head in defeat before stepping over the edge of the talan and dropping to the forest ground before calling a farewell to Alfirin. Afterwards, he slowly walked until he arrived at the small two-story house that Maliel and Elrohir lived in. Stepping up to the front door, he knocked softly before opening it and peeking inside.

Maliel looked up from where she was sitting with a mug of tea at the table in the kitchen and smiled as she saw him. Opening the door completely, Legolas stepped inside and closed it before moving over to Maliel and hugging her while pressing a kiss against her hair.

"Good morning, Princess," he greeted her softly.

"Good morning, Ada," she said and smiled. "You look like you've had a rough night. I hope that Gimli and Gruinor took good care of you?"

Legolas scoffed. "They passed out from alcohol and left me wandering the woods. Alfirin found me and I managed to persuade him to let me stay with him for the night." He sat down in the chair across from Maliel and rested his head on his arms, throwing her a pitiful look.

Maliel chuckled at the display. "Would you like a cup of tea, Ada? Something for the headache?"

Legolas smiled. "Yes, please."

Shaking her head with a smile, Maliel got to her feet and poured another cup of tea. She opened one of the cupboards and took out a small bag, opening it before taking a pinch of the herbs and sprinkling them into the tea as well. It was a mixture that the healer Ecphen had prescribed years ago for his headaches; recently Athelas had been added to help with the lingering effects from the wounds Sauron's sword had dealt him.

Before she died, Faneth had been the one to make sure that he always had some with him, and now his daughter seemed to have taken over… Just for a second, however, he could smell the mixture soaking into the tea and look at Maliel's curly, auburn hair as she had her back turned, and imagine that it was Faneth who would turn around and look at him with her warm, amber eyes…

But they were sky blue.

Maliel smiled as she placed the mug in front of him and sat down once more. Straightening out, he gazed into the mug as he took hold of it and gently slid it around on the table, eyeing the steaming liquid as it swirled inside the mug.

"Ada?" Maliel asked softly.

Blinking, he turned his attention from the tea and looked up at her, effortlessly reading the mixture of amusement and worry in her eyes. Perhaps she had inherited his eye color – or at least the color his eyes had been before Faneth died – but her emotions were just as easily read as Faneth's had been.

"Elrohir is still asleep?" Legolas asked.

Throwing him a small scowl, she answered, "Him and the twins are still in bed. Last I say them, Caladel and Elrohir were fighting over dominion of the bed in their sleep and Naruvir had been banished to just a small corner." A smile automatically lifted her lips as she spoke of them. "It's frightening how many traits of his father's that Caladel already shows, just imagine what sort of mayhem he'll raise when he grows up."

She mock-shuddered, but then gazed at him fondly. "Naruvir reminds me more of you, actually."

"Me?" Legolas enquired, lifting an eyebrow in amusement. "Poor child."

"Oh stop it," Maliel said, slapping him lightly over the head. "You have innumerable good qualities, even though you try not to bring attention to them. Loyalty, strength, kindness, honor, …selflessness."

"They have inherited their kindness from you, of that there is no doubt," Legolas smiled as he took a sip of the mug.

"I'm not finished," Maliel told him. "You also have many unchangeable faults. You try to do everything on your own-"

"Occupational hazard," Legolas cut in casually.

"You keep everything bottled up inside you without seeking help-"

"I grew up that way."

"And you always try to protect your loved ones from everything that you can," she ended softly. "I know this, I've lived with it all of my life. Ever since I was a little girl you always sought to shield me from the darker part of your life, tried to pretend that you weren't wounded, that you weren't tired…"

Maliel held Legolas' gaze gently, reaching out to take his hands in hers.

"Do you remember what I said upon the balcony in Rivendell before you left on the quest?" Maliel asked sadly. "I said that you have sheltered me from so much in your life, that there is so much that I don't know… Things that Elrohir, and Elladan, and Granddad know, but I don't…"

"…There are some things… that you do not need to know, Maliel…" Legolas sighed softly.

"But I want to know!" Maliel said abruptly before ducking her head and taking a deep breath. When she looked up once more, her eyes looked entreatingly into his. "I _need_ to know, Ada… Everything you've done, everything you've been through… I don't want all of that to just become lost… to have all of your sacrifices be forgotten… I know that you don't think that your life merits any recognition, but I think that it deserves to be remembered."

A slight blush spread over her cheeks and she averted her eyes from his and she continued, "I know that I'm just your daughter and I have no right to ask this of you… I know that you would rather I didn't know, you would rather protect me from the truth forever, but I am not the little girl you used to tuck into bed at night and tell fairy tales…"

She raised her head and looked determinedly into his eyes, and in that moment he could see his own stubbornness and will inside her eyes. "I've grown up, Ada," she said, "I have children of my own now, I am Elrohir's wife… I am, and always will be, your daughter. But you can no longer appease me with fairy tales and myths. This time, I want to know the truth …I want to know your story. …I want to know where you come from and what you've gone through to become who you are today… _Please_."

Somehow, Legolas seemed to have become haggard throughout her plea, his eyes looking pained into hers. Nevertheless, a weak smile appeared on his lips as he responded softly, "Don't say that you have no right, Maliel… You are my daughter, you have the only right…"

Legolas was silent for a while but then he asked, "What is it that you want, Maliel? …This is more than me just giving you a timeline of my life, isn't it?"

Another blush spread out on Maliel's cheeks, but her voice was calm as she said, "I would like to write a book, with your permission… I would like to write your story… Just one book. It doesn't have to be seen by anyone if you don't want to, but I think that your story deserves to be put on paper, just like Beren and Lúthien's and many others were."

"My life isn't a short one," Legolas said softly.

"I know," Maliel smiled. "But we have all the years in the world, don't we? To get it down on paper."

Legolas gazed at her for a long time, but at last he nodded. "All right."


	12. The incident

_A/N: Hope all of you have had a wonderful Christmas and that you will have an even more stunning New Year!_

 _Thanks for all the reviews that you have given this story already! I've recently been getting a lot of French reviews (thank you for that) and I just wanted to make sure that you knew that if any of you have any questions you're more than welcome to write them in English, or by all means Danish, because sadly I do not understand French. Of course this is only necessary if you want me to answer something :) Thank you again for all of the reviews!_

Guest seeking more Alfirin _: Hahaha! I would love to write something about Alfirin (he's a favorite of mine as well), but I'm pretty swamped with getting this story updated. There is, though, some Alfirin in this chapter so I hope that can satisfy some of the craving :)_

Guest wanting more Elrohir-Maliel relationship _: Well... I'll see what I can do :D After all, I do love them as well. I think you'll like the beginning of this chapter, though!_

 _Enjoy the chapter, although I have to warn you that it's a bit long... I thought about cutting it in half, but I had begun with the intention of making it one chapter and decided that since I had everything written I might as well just give it to you!_

 **Chapter twelve – The incident**

 _The 6th year of the Forth Age. Caladel and Naruvir are eight years old._

"Maliel?"

She didn't bother to turn as Elrohir's voice sounded gently from the doorway. Her fingers traced the inside of Naruvir's limp hand as she held it in her own, her boys undisturbed as they continued to sleep on the bed she was sitting on the edge of. Elrohir's footsteps sounded softly through the room until his hands were placed upon her shoulder, his lips placing a kiss against the side of her neck.

"What wrong?" he asked in a whisper as he straightened out and soothingly began rubbing her shoulders.

"His hands are so small, Ro…" Maliel breathed in response, pain in her voice. She continued to trace Naruvir's hand and then reached out to do the same with Caladel's. "Both of their hands are so small…"

"They are as large as you've ever seem them be," Elrohir said, a mixture of amusement and worry in his voice. "They continue to grow every day that passes, slowly but surely. …What has gotten you in this mood?"

"Ada…" Maliel sighed pained. "Ada's hands were this small when he first began training, when he first held a weapon deliberately in training to take lives… Even then his hands had already had their share of blood…" She choked on her words.

Elrohir was silent for a moment, his hands moving gently over her shoulders and back. When he answered, his voice was hesitant, "You asked Legolas to tell you his story…"

"I know," Maliel moaned. "And I knew that it was going to be hard when I asked him… But hearing all of these stories and then coming back home to see Caladel and Naruvir running around with those sweet, innocent looks in their eyes… Last night I dreamed of something that Ada had told me, only it wasn't his voice I heard crying and screaming, it was Caladel and Naruvir and I could see their faces twisted in pain…"

A choked sob left her and she was forced to take a deep breath before continuing, "I just can't stand to think of a child going through what he has… especially now that we have our own… Just imagine Caladel and Naruvir growing up in the same world as Legolas' at the time…"

"They won't," Elrohir promised softly, drawing her close and wrapping her securely in his arms. "They will know no war, and no more hardship that what cannot be avoided… We will keep them safe, Maliel…"

"Someone should have kept Ada safe," she whispered pained.

"There are many things that Legolas should have been saved from," Elrohir agreed, speaking softly beside her ear, "but we cannot change the past, and for better or worse Legolas has already survived everything and become the person that he is today. No one can take his experiences from him, but with enough love we can at least make sure that he doesn't have to go through more…"

Maliel nodded, sniffling lightly. She leaned tiredly against Elrohir's chest as she caressed the twins' hands one last time before moving her hands to their cheeks and brushing her fingers soothingly over their cheekbones. Afterwards, she placed them upon the arms that Elrohir had wrapped around her.

"You're going to see Legolas tomorrow again, aren't you?" Elrohir asked softly.

Maliel nodded once more, turning her head so she could place a kiss against his temple. "You know I am," she whispered.

"I know," Elrohir acknowledged with a small sigh. "It hurts you, knowing his story, hearing him tell you."

"Nevertheless, it is something that I need to hear," she murmured, closing her eyes and resting her head against the crook of his neck. "It hurts less knowing that you are there when I come home, always by my side. …I love you, Elrohir."

"I love you, too." Elrohir smiled gently as he shifted one of his arms under her knees and tightened his grip before lifting her into his arms. Maliel's arms instantly came up to wrap themselves around his neck and she looked up at him with a smile upon her lips, although her eyes still shone slightly.

He leaned down and kissed her lovingly before whispering against her lips, "Come to bed, love."

O

Legolas sat on the edge of the balustrade, turned halfway so he could shift between looking out into the snowy landscape and turning his gaze to the settee on the balcony where Maliel was sitting with her feet tucked under her and a few pieces of parchment resting on a large book on her lap.

In the distance they could see Naruvir and Caladel as they played with Elrohir, Elladan, Aragorn, and Arwen in the snow, trying to make a family of snowmen. Everyone had gathered in the elven city for that year's celebration of winter solstice, a three day long period of feasting and dancing under the stars and moon that would begin later that day.

"Ada?"

Maliel's voice shook him out of his thoughts and he blinked before turning to her, titling his head inquiringly as he asked, "Where were we?"

Maliel glanced at her notes before answering, "You're eighteen years old and you've just gained permission to begin entering patrols."

"Ah…" Legolas sighed and turned to look over the snowy city once more. "I was placed under the Captain Thalon. He was the Captain that my father trusted the most with my safety. He had already been in charge of my safety some times and had showed himself willing to lay down his life to protect mine. You remember when I told you about the attack on the Halls when I was just an elfling?"

Maliel nodded so he continued, "Thalon was the one who took an arrow for me and managed to drag me to my room before his wound caught up with him. I hid the both of us in the – at the time partially collapsed – tunnel and instinctively gave him my energy to keep him alive until we were found two days later when the attack had been stopped."

"And that was when they found out that you had that ability, right?" Maliel asked as she scribbled on the parchment.

"Yes," Legolas confirmed. "Four other novices joined his patrol alongside me, all of them fifty years old as were the usual requirements. Anunir, Húron, and the twins, Mýlon and his sister Filegil."

"So you were the baby of the group?" Maliel smiled.

Legolas returned the smile halfheartedly before saying, "They resented me for it, kept saying that the only reason that I was there was because of my father and not because of my own abilities. I knew that it was mostly their jealously speaking, because in truth I had beaten all of them on the training ground, but of course they blamed that on the fact that I got personal training for the better part of my tutelage …which probably wasn't far from the truth either."

Maliel frowned. "From what you've told me you trained more than anyone, going so far as to train yourself outside the normal hours."

"Yes, well, they didn't know that," Legolas smirked. "I just ignored them, mostly."

"What did they do?"

"Just small things," Legolas answered. "Emptied my water bottle, gave me the blame for anything that they could, and tried their best to antagonize me into starting fights or making mistakes when I was ever alone with them. Mýlon and Filegil were the worst, and their resentment grew when Alfirin began coming with me as we began to patrol more dangerous territories."

"Didn't they ever stop?"

Laughter drew Legolas gaze to where the twins were and smiled as he saw Aragorn showering them with snow. After a moment he answered, "They stopped somewhat after an incident on a patrol."

"What happened?"

"We were going to the Eastern border to join one of the patrols there," Legolas said. "The shadow over the woods was growing and there were more attacks reported from spiders and even orcs. It was around this time that the wood slowly changed name from Greenwood to Mirkwood. That night began with Mýlon and I collecting firewood for the fire."

 _It seemed slightly too quiet, Legolas thought pensively as he stopped in the process of bending for another piece of wood. He stared around himself instead, focusing on the trees that surrounded him. They seemed more quiet that usual, just a bit._

 _He was too deep in his thoughts to notice the piece as wood that sailed towards him before it smacked into his cheek, making him lose his grip on the logs he was carrying. Immediately, he snapped his attention to the side and halfway drew his twin knives before he realized who had thrown the piece of wood. Snorting in disgust, he snapped his knives back in their scabbards as he stared at Mýlon's smug face._

" _Edgy tonight, aren't you, your highness?" Mýlon sneered, his eyes mocking. "We're supposing to be collecting wood not wandering around in little elfling dreams. Or perhaps the little elfling is too tired to handle being on a real patrol?" The older elf stepped closer, towering over Legolas' smaller stature._

 _Nonetheless, Legolas refused to back down and looked up at him coolly. "Don't you think that the trees are a bit too quiet?"_

" _Oh dear, is the little princeling scared? I'm sure that Nana wouldn't mind you crawling under her skirts and hiding like the baby you are." Mýlon made small whimpers and mewls._

" _Very mature, Mýlon," Legolas said as he bent down to pick up the logs that he had dropped, counting to on hundred in Quenya in an attempt to reign in his anger. Something that was disrupted by one final shove, making him fall onto the pieces of scattered wood. Laughing, Mýlon finally moved back towards the camp._

 _Slamming his fist against the ground, Legolas pushed himself up from the ground while grabbing one of the logs of wood and throwing it into the trees. He sat heavily down on the ground after that, wrapping his arms loosely around his legs and rubbing against where the log of wood had struck his cheek._

" _Bastard," Legolas sighed, raising his eyes to the skies. He felt incredibly young and too old at the same time, reckoning that was what happened when someone was sent out on patrols at his age… Whatever friends he had his age were some he had lost years ago, not having the time to see them and feeling horribly out of place in their presence. They would probably be out playing by the river or in the trees at that very moment._

 _With another deep sigh, he rubbed his hands over his face one last time before getting to his feet. The logs were picked back up one by one until his arms were full once more, although he wasn't able to carry as much as Mýlon._

 _Anger and bitterness made him stop up and he closed his eyes as he took several deep breaths, calming himself down completely. He hadn't spent years learning how to control his power without gaining the ability of being able to calm himself and push down frustration. When his eyes opened once more their blue depths were calm like the ocean._

 _He wouldn't fall to their level._

 _The walk back to camp was a short one and he soon found himself lying down the armful of logs beside the space cleared for the fire, smiling to Fainion who had already begun preparing the food. Fainion had been on Captain Thalon's patrol for centuries and was one of the few who behaved decently towards him. Therefore, he got a smile in return before he moved onwards towards his pack._

 _As he stepped up to his bedroll and bent down to open his pack, however, a voice came from the nearest tree. "Anel vanwa anann." [You were gone for a long time.]_

" _Anen cened an ilvana turu," Legolas said dryly, as he took out his water skin and swallowed a few mouthfuls. "Sanomiër san limbë nostalë." [I was looking for the perfect firewood. There are so many kinds.]_

 _Alfirin pushed himself away from the tree he was leaning against and stepped up to Legolas, his yellow and green, hawk-like eyes gazing at him intently before he reached out to brush his hair away from his cheek, baring the bruises that had most likely already formed on his cheekbone and temple._

" _Mana sina?" he asked with a suddenly dangerous ring to his voice. [What is this?]_

" _Lestasa," Legolas sighed as he batted Alfirin's hand away and bent down to place the skin back in his pack. As he straightened, he stared pensively into the forest around them. "I-alder nar quilda… narltë lá?" [Leave it. The trees are quiet… are they not?]_

 _As he looked into Alfirin's eyes he could see the frustration and feral anger that was trapped in them, as well as the pain, but watched as his minder forcibly shook away those feelings as he turned to the forest as well. A small frown marred Alfirin's brows for a moment._

" _Annaldaië astalda sestanna ninya," Alfirin said quietly after having listened for a while. "Uan carnë tunta epë… Carldë thorya?" [Your gift is stronger compared to mine. I did not notice before… Do you feel danger?]_

" _Lá…" Legolas whispered, his hand automatically reaching up to draw one of his knives from its scabbard. [Yes…]_

" _Legolas?" Captain Thalon's voice called sharply from the other side of the camp._

 _Legolas' eyes lost their glazed look and snapped to the Captain as he hurried to their position._

" _Whatever he's saying it's a lie!" Filegil snapped from where she was sitting beside her brother Mýlon, both of them having whispered and laughed to each other earlier, before watching darkly as Legolas spoke with Alfirin._

 _Both Legolas, Alfirin, and Thalon turned their attention to her in confusion, but she didn't seem to notice as she plowed on, lying through her teeth, "Mýlon told me himself that the bruise came because the clumsy Princeling walked into a branch! Whatever lies he's be sprouting about my brother it is only because he is an attention-seeking crybaby too far away from his mother's arms!"_

 _Filegil ignored her brother as he desperately tried to stop her tirade. "I assure you that-"_

" _Silence!" Captain Thalon finally snapped. "Stand at attention, soldier!"_

 _Filegil's eyes widened instantly and all words died on her lips. Hurriedly, she jumped to her feet, standing straight with her arms at her sides and her chin lifted, her gaze fixed on a point in the distance._

" _Your brother-in-arms has made no accusations against either of you, and as it seems that you are determined to do so yourself, I can make no other assumption than that you are responsible and take you up for reevaluation, is that clear soldier?" Thalon barked at her._

" _Yes, Captain!" Filegil replied dutifully, her eyes darkened with anger nonetheless. When Thalon offered no dismissal of her, she stayed at attention even when he turned to Legolas once more._

" _What is it?" Thalon asked brusquely._

 _Legolas' back was straight and his icy blue eyes steady as he answered, "The trees are quiet, Captain."_

" _Is there a threat?" Thalon asked, his gaze immediately going to the forest around him._

" _Give me a moment, sir," Legolas answered shortly before setting into a run, leaping over Alfirin's bag in his haste. He could dimly hear Mýlon scoffing 'wood-elf' under his breath and Thalon calling the rest of the patrol to arms, but the world around him faded to the background as he placed his hand on the nearest tree, delving into it._

 _A short burst of pain ran through him as he breeched through the trees defenses, set in place when the tree – like most of those so far from the barrier – had delved into itself in an attempt to escape from the rising darkness. Immediately, the sense of danger grew stronger and he felt what the trees around the camp felt as the dark creatures scuttled around in their crowns._

 _It was somewhat of a struggle to go back to his own body, exchanging roots for legs and branches for arms, and a few seconds passed before he remembered how to make his mouth form the words, "Spiders… From above…"_

 _He could dimly hear Captain Thalon ordering the patrol into positions and felt as Alfirin stepped closer to him, but he didn't pull back from the tree. Instead, he bore its fear and pain as the spiders came closer and closer to them. It was the first time the patrol as a team would fight together against spiders…_

 _The moment he felt them coming close, Legolas thrust himself back from the tree, yanking his hand away and drawing his second knife as well as he raised the alarm, "Now!"_

 _His warning had barely echoed through the trees when the first spiders seemingly dropping from the sky. Immediately, the clearing turned into a battle scene as the fifteen patrol members fought the steadily rising number of spiders that left the canopy, screeching and clicking because there was no more need for silence._

 _Legolas felt a brief moment of despair and fright grip him before he swallowed a gripped his weapons tighter, taking comfort in the familiar weight of the twin knives his parents had gifted him. He let blankness take over and lost himself in familiar movements as three spiders launched themselves as his and Alfirin's position._

 _He had fought orcs before; surely this wasn't that much different…_

 _Alfirin sprung on two of the spiders, moving further away from his side as Legolas moved forward to take on the last. Vaguely replaying his instructor's words from training in the back of his mind, he dodged the spider's legs, slashing as he moved past before using his smaller size to duck between two and jump onto the spider's back. Immediately, the creature screeched and tried to buck to throw him off, but Legolas jumped forward and sunk one of his knives into a soft spot at the back of its neck._

 _The knife sunk deeply into the hairy, leathery black skin as the spider squealed shrilly in pain. Legolas felt as the thick purple blood spread over his hand and as the life force of the creature slowly snuffed out, its breathing and heartbeat stopping._

 _He barely had a moment to acknowledge the pain and revulsion that welled up inside him before the next were upon him, drawn by the cry of the other. His grip on the knife tightened once more as he yanked it out of the carcass simultaneously as he spun around to meet the next. As he jumped down from the carcass, he immediately let his body slide under the next, holding his knives up and slicing it from the mouth, along the neck and downwards._

 _As he neared the spider's lower body, though, he realized that his plan wasn't the most brilliant as he found himself in the range of the spider's stinger. The spear-like point was quickly sunk into the ground where his legs had been, quickly moved away as he rotated in his roll. Without thinking, on reflex, he kicked the spider with all of his might. It was enough to move it slightly away and he soon found himself safely out from underneath it just in time as it crashed to the ground._

 _Immediately flipping to his feet, he briefly caught Alfirin just short of panicked gaze – the wood-elf clearly having seen his stunt – before he was forced to turn to face the next spider._

 _It was fine. Learning by doing, right? He found out that it was stupid to face a spider head on if you weren't moving fast enough, because then you were in range of both pinchers and legs and it could just as easily bowl straight over you. It was even more stupid to roll underneath a spider without taking precaution against its stinger. Incredibly stupid, too, to let one fall on to you from above – thank the Valar for Alfirin, and even more so to have forgotten one's bow and quiver by one's pack._

 _A cry of fear tore him out of his thoughts just as he felled another of the beasts, and his eyes snapped in that direction. Mýlon was on the ground, his clean sword lying uselessly at his side as he stared up in terror at the spider that was quickly advancing._

 _Without even taking a moment to consider, Legolas jumped into action, dashing towards the scene and away from Alfirin's reach. His minder's short noise of protest was lost in his haste as he arrived just as the spider was about to attack. Immediately, he jumped onto its back, distracting it from Mýlon and running up its spine until he reached its neck, sinking his blade into its weak spot._

 _The spider crashed to the ground mere inches from Mýlon's white face and he jumped off its head, grinding it into the ground as he did, landing beside the other novice. Instinct that had been drilled into him for the better part of his life had him instantly raising his knives into position as he turned on the foot he had landed on to face the battleground once more._

" _Pick up your sword," Legolas said tersely without looking back._

 _From his position he could see most of the battlefield clearly. The two other novices Húron and Anunir were both with two older patrol members being protected just as much as being allowed to fight. Alfirin was where he had left him fighting as spider that seemed determined not to lose. Fainion was in the middle of the clearing, fighting a spider from either side. He could also see Captain Thalon and several others in a frenzied skirmish at the other end of the clearing but couldn't see what was going from his position. Filegil wasn't in sight either._

 _Glancing back, he saw that Mýlon was still frozen in his position, the sword still lying by his side. Both irritation and pity flowed through him quickly but it faded as he saw what was strapped to the other novices' back. A bow._

" _Give me your bow!" Legolas demanded in haste, turning quickly._

 _When Mýlon didn't react to his voice, he bent and quickly ripped the bow and quiver from his back, barely taking a moment to swing the case of arrows over his shoulder before the bow was nocked in his hands. Aiming quickly at one of the spiders Fainion was fighting, he loosed the arrow and watched as it thwacked into the spiders leathery skin, making the creature screech and buck with pain before it curled in on itself._

 _Grimacing, he relaxed the bow slightly before he forced himself to take the next shot. Mýlon's bow was ill suited for him, too big and with too much draw weight. He had been trained to use any kind of bow, though, and adjusted his aim and posture accordingly. Nevertheless, it didn't stop the strain it put on his arm, nor the way the string cut into his fingers._

 _Sharp, icy blue eyes took in the battlefield, as Legolas let arrow after arrow fly from Mýlon's bow. His aim was nowhere near as precise as usual so he avoided all shots were there was a danger of him missing the shot and hitting one of his team members, choosing instead to aim at spiders that stood somewhat isolated._

 _The world seemed to be covered in haze as he focused completely on his task, not moving from his spot in front of Mýlon. It wasn't until a hand cautiously landed on his shoulder that he snapped out of it once more, jerking his eyes to the right to see Alfirin beside him._

" _Enough, elfling," Alfirin murmured, placing his hand upon Legolas' where he was still holding the string taut, covering the bleeding fingers. "You've done enough…"_

 _Legolas stared at Alfirin for a moment before turning to the battlefield once more, only then seeing that the fighting had almost died down, the last of the spiders being dealt with as he watched. Numb, he let Alfirin gently ease the bow out of his grasp as he came to terms with the fact that it was over._

 _Weariness gripped him._

" _Are you all right?" Alfirin asked anxiously, his eyes boring into his. Legolas nodded automatically in response. Alfirin looked unconvinced but let it drop for the moment as he asked instead, "What about him?" He had turned to Mýlon._

 _Legolas turned numbly, his icy blue eyes coming to rest on Mýlon's pitiful form. "I think he's fine," he answered._

 _Alfirin pursed his lips before crouching directly in front of Mýlon, staring intensely into the novice's eyes and no doubt attempting to seem comforting as a feral grin spread out on his lips. "You are safe now, little one," Alfirin spoke in accented sindarin, raising his hand to tap Mýlon's cheek repeatedly. "No need to cower."_

 _It was at Alfirin's words that the dazed look seemed to leave Mýlon's eyes and he immediately thrust the wood elf away from him with a mixture of anger and disgust, not doubt fuelled by the shame that Legolas thought he saw in the novice's eyes._

" _Don't patronize me," Mýlon snapped, still white-faced. "Ignorant wood-elf!"_

 _Alfirin's face darkened dangerously, his eyes becoming sharp and deadly as they stared into Mýlon's. The wood elf had just opened his mouth when Legolas' weak voice made him snap his head around so quickly that his neck cracked._

" _Alfirin…"_

 _Wooziness welled up in Legolas as the numbness from the battle started to fade while Alfirin spoke to Mýlon. Suddenly, he could not only feel the pain in his arm and bleeding fingers, but also from his entire body and most especially his lower left leg. He felt slightly sick._

 _His minder was by his side in an instant after his call, taking hold of his elbow to steady him as he wavered on his feet and placing his other hand on his forehead._

" _Did it sting you?" Alfirin asked fiercely, giving his elbow a shake._

 _Legolas blinked sluggishly. "…I dunno," he answered after a moment. "My leg hurts…"_

 _The moment the words left his mouth, Alfirin was already dragging him towards the nearest tree where he made him sit down. He then let his fingers run down the lengths of his legs until they found a bloody tear in the leggings. Alfirin quickly ripped the tear wider and examined the cut underneath with clenched teeth._

" _Sangwa," he spat after a moment, reaching up to place his hand upon Legolas' brow. "You have a fever," he said. "One of the spiders managed to graze you. No doubt when you tried to dive under one." [Poison]_

" _Is he wounded?"_

 _All three of them looked up as Captain Thalon strode quickly towards them, his expression grim and his palms covered in red blood._

" _One of spiders grazed him," Alfirin answered, his eyes hardened at the sight of the blood. "Poisoned, but not seriously. He should be all right in a day or two."_

 _Captain Thalon nodded shortly before turning to Mýlon. He crouched before the novice and placed his hand on his shoulder, his eyes full of pain. "Your sister was attacked when she tried to get to your side after you ran off," he said gravely. "Two spiders got to her before we could and in the moment that it took for us to reach her, they had already down a lot of harm."_

" _What…?" Mýlon breathed, his face whitening even more._

 _Thalon squeezed his shoulder. "Both spiders managed to pierce her with their stingers… She has a lot of poison in her body and we're not sure if she is going to be able to pull through… Come, she's asking for you."_

 _Thalon took hold of Mýlon's elbow and gently but firmly helped him to his feet. As he led him towards where Legolas had seen the skirmish earlier, he briefly turned to Alfirin and said, "There are a few other's who are wounded as well, so I've made the decision to return to the Halls at first light." Alfirin nodded in response so Thalon turned his gaze to Legolas, who was leaning against the tree with closed eyes and flushed cheeks. "Take care of him."_

" _I will," Alfirin promised._

 _Thalon led Mýlon gently over to where his sister was lying, feeling his own failure and pain enlarge with every step. This patrol was supposed to have been relatively safe until they reached the borders. The spiders were new enemies to the Woodland Realm, and they were only just figuring out how to fight them, but they had assumed incorrectly that they wouldn't attack such a large group without provocation. There were more of the creatures than they had realized…_

 _Members of the patrol, watching with a mixture of anguish and pain, surrounded Filegil. Nestarion, the member of the team most efficient with healing sat beside her, but he raised solemn eyes as they neared, shaking his head silently to him. Mýlon seemed oblivious as his eyes locked on his twin sisters closed eyes and bloodless face. Filegil's breathing was strained and shudders ran up and down her body._

 _A low keen escaped Mýlon as he darted forward and kneeled beside his sister, gathering her cold hand in his. Filegil made no reaction to him._

" _There is nothing more I can do for her, Captain," Nestarion sighed. "I am no healer, this is beyond my capabilities. She doesn't have enough time for us to reach the healers… I doubt she'll last the night."_

 _Thalon felt like he had been punched in the gut, but that was nothing compared to Mýlon's reaction. "No!" the youth snapped, looking at Nestarion with desperate eyes. "There must be something that you can do! Anything!"_

" _I'm sorry," Nestarion said softly. "She just doesn't have the strength to fight the poison in her system…"_

" _Strength…" Thalon whispered._

 _Mýlon's attention immediately snapped to him. "What is it?" he demanded. "What can help her?"_

 _Thalon let out a gush of air and wracked his hand through his hair in frustration and doubt. "Some members of the royal family have the ability to manipulate and control energy," he said reluctantly, "and Legolas' ability is the strongest that has ever been seen… I once had a taste of this myself when he was no more than an elfling, and it kept me alive for longer than I should have been." He shifted his gaze to where Alfirin was fussing over Legolas. "But he is wounded. I can't allow him to-"_

 _The words died on his lips as Mýlon abruptly rose to his feet. For the briefest second he looked like he was going to be sick but then he snapped into action, moving towards where Legolas and Alfirin were. Legolas was still leaning against the trunk of the tree with flushed cheeks and didn't open his eyes as Mýlon hurried up to them._

" _Please," Mýlon begged hoarsely, his teeth biting into his lower lip._

 _Legolas' eyes fluttered upon at his voice, a confused expression of his young face at hearing Mýlon's plea. His eyes had darkened from an icy blue to a more cerulean shade._

 _Mýlon swallowed thickly as Legolas' eyes landed on his, seemingly having difficulty forcing the words out. "Please, help my sister," Mýlon whispered. Before Legolas' very eyes, the other novice fell to his knees and bent forward to press his forehead against the ground. "Please," he pleaded desperately, feeling wretched as he swallowed his pride._

" _He owes you nothing," Alfirin hissed angrily in accented sindarin. "How dare you ask him for anything after everything you have down to him, especially now! Do you think that he has any strength left to aid your sister as well? Gagl hína!" [Foolish child!]_

" _I know, I know," Mýlon keened, his voice becoming more and more desperate as he seemed to sink into himself from Alfirin's words. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Please… I'll do anything you want, anything at all…"_

" _Le winima, tiuca, milya seldo!" Alfirin growled. "Lavá-" [You childish, thick, weak boy! I will not allow-]_

" _Alfirin…" Legolas interrupted softly, turning slowly from the sight of Mýlon's bowed head. His head felt heavy with fever but he was still amused by his minder's tirade, knowing that Alfirin probably hadn't even noticed that he had slipped back in Nandorin in his anger and that no one understood him._

" _Eä…" Legolas told his minder. He stretched his hand out towards him. "Alyani ama… [Let it be… Help me up…"_

 _Alfirin's yellow-green eyes immediately glared at him. "Fó," he growled dangerously. "Nostarild nyarni tirtyë apa." [No. Your parents told me to look after you.]_

" _Nauvan illi forya," Legolas muttered. "Lesta nostarinya nin…" [I will be all right. Leave my parents to me…]_

 _Alfirin shook his head, a growl coming from the back of his throat, his eyes taking on a wild look, as if he was going to throw him over his shoulder and carry him into the trees if he ever said yes to Mýlon's request._

 _Legolas groaned at his stubbornness, his head was too heavy for arguments. Giving up on Alfirin's acceptance, he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, ignoring his minder's dismayed exclamation as shook off Alfirin's hand when he tried to pull him down once more._

" _Alfirin, a girl is going to die if I stay and do nothing," Legolas hissed, closing his eyes in exhaustion as he slipped back into sindarin. He took a few shaky steps forward before Alfirin was by his side, taking hold of his elbow. Assuming that Alfirin was trying to stop him, Legolas automatically moved one of his legs behind Alfirin's and tripped his minder, not taking into account that his balance was so bad that he fell on top of Alfirin, sending them both to the ground._

 _Immediately, Alfirin rolled them over so that he had Legolas' body trapped underneath him, sending him a feral grin as he took hold of him and easily threw him over his shoulder as he stood up and lifted him._

 _Legolas could only groan and half-heartedly pound his fist against Alfirin's back as he minder began striding away. Surprisingly, it was only a moment before Alfirin gently set him down on the ground once more, kneeling beside him._

 _It took a moment for the nausea to settle before he noticed that he was sitting before the weakly gasping Filegil, across from Nestarion. Mýlon was standing there anxiously as well, clearly having followed them, and the rest of the team was also looking at him with a mixture of amusement and worry._

 _Focusing his attention on Filegil, he reached out and took her hand in his, flinching as he immediately felt her latch onto his energy, soaking it in as a sponge would water. He must have wavered because at the next moment he was being drawn against Alfirin's chest so he didn't have to support himself as he adapted to the drainage. Filegil was weak, her heartbeat fluttering inconsistently inside her chest until the energy she got from him forced her breathing and heartbeat to match his, jolting everything back into order._

 _He then closed his eyes, focusing as he controlled his power and regulated the amount of energy she was taking from him until it was just enough to keep the venom at bay. It was already taxing on his body and his lungs strained to make up for it, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow._

" _Legolas?" Alfirin whispered worriedly, holding him tighter._

 _Legolas wetted his lips and swallowed thickly before forcing his lungs to take deep, calm breaths. Pushing down nausea and dizziness he opened his eyes once more, their deep, cerulean depths showing nothing but calmness and resolution, unaware that he looked uncannily like his father at that moment, with the authority and the sureness of a king._

 _He gazed into Nestarion's eyes as he said, "I can give her strength to fight the venom… but I cannot heal her wounds. …You need to take care of them as well as possible… so that she doesn't lose any more blood. The healers… have recently found out that Athelas slows spider venom…"_

 _Nestarion had already begun treating the wounds, something that had previously been considered futile, his movements hurried and calm at the same time. When Legolas mentioned Athelas, he looked up and said, "I don't have any."_

 _Legolas turned his focus to where Mýlon was standing anxiously. The other novice started and met his gaze with widened eyes. "Mýlon, get my bag," he told him, his voice was soft but there was no mistaking the authority in it._

 _Mýlon gave a jerky nod and then hurried off._

" _Legolas."_

 _He turned his eyes to Captain Thalon as he kneeled on his other side, looking seriously at him. "How long are you able to keep her alive?" he asked gravely. "I need an honest answer, soldier."_

"… _How long would it take to bring her to the Halls?" Legolas responded._

" _We must have walked for six hours in total to get here," Thalon answered. "It will take nine to return because of the dark and because we'll be carrying a stretcher."_

 _Nine hours? Legolas felt his mouth because slightly dry at that, but as he looked back to Filegil his decision was already made. "I'll make it," he said with grim determination._

" _You need to be sure of this, Legolas," Caption Thalon told him soberly, placing his hand on the youth's cheek to turn his head once more. "I need to know that you are in control of what you're doing every second of this journey home if you intend to do this. If I get even the merest hint that you're getting too weak to continue, then I'm going to separate you from her immediately."_

" _Yes sir," Legolas responded tiredly. "…Only it would be best if we left right away… and when you make a stretcher it should be made to carry my weight as well, just in case…"_

 _Thalon nodded shortly at this and rose to his feet before beginning to order about the stationary patrol members gathered around them. Legolas turned his attention back to Filegil only to find that Mýlon had returned and was sitting by his side, holding his pack._

 _Legolas changed the hand with which he held onto Filegil and turned slightly in Alfirin's arms until he was somewhat facing Mýlon. With Mýlon's help he opened the bed and fished out his medicin pack. His hand trembled slightly so soon Alfirin reached out and batted it away, opening the pack himself and fishing out two Athelas leaves, handing them to him._

 _Taking the leaves, he put them into his mouth and chewed them into a paste, before spitting it into his hand and applying them to the wounds that Nestarion had just finished stitching. It would have to do for the moment. He also smeared some of it under the bandages that Alfirin had wrapped around the poisoned cut in his leg and washed down whatever remained in his mouth with water from his skin._

 _Afterwards, he handed the skin to Mýlon and said, "Crush some more of the Athelas into this and help her drink it." The other novice nodded mutely and took the skin before doing as he said._

 _With a sigh, Legolas relaxed against Alfirin, his eyes slipping closed. He floated somewhere between sleep and awareness as he listened to the others breaking camp around him and Alfirin humming. Not once did he separate his hand from Filegil, constantly feeding her energy and making sure that she was still hanging on._

 _It seemed like mere minutes passed before Alfirin was gently shaking him into awareness once more. Legolas opened his eyes to the sight of Nestarion and an elf called Carnil getting ready to place Filegil on a stretcher made of two long branches and number of cloaks. He moved away from Alfirin and nodded at them, following Filegil's movements as she was lifted up and placed upon it._

 _The two elves then took hold of either end of the stretcher and raised it slowly so Legolas could get to his feet simultaneously. Alfirin helped him up and steadied him as he wavered for a moment. He looked around the camp to see that everything had been packed and everyone was ready to go._

"… _My pack…?" he asked softly._

" _Mýlon has it," Alfirin answered. "He'll carry it."_

" _Alfirin," Thalon called as he neared them once more. "Would it be possible for you to move ahead of us, using the trees and have them send out riders to meet us. It would shorten the period of time that it would take us to reach the Halls."_

 _Alfirin watched Thalon silently as he asked, but then looked towards Legolas. He was not there to follow Thalon's orders or strengthen the patrol; his only job was to look after Legolas. By Thranduil's orders he had complete authorization to throw Legolas over his shoulder and get him the hell away if he deemed it necessary. Therefore, Legolas' orders were more binding than Thalon's._

 _Legolas looked into Alfirin's eyes, his cerulean blue depths completely unreadable and yet like calm pools of water. It had never ceased to amaze Alfirin the amount of authority Legolas possessed, and had possessed since the moment he had first been left under his protection._

" _Go," Legolas commanded him softly. He was beginning to become pale. "You help me best by getting to the Halls as quickly as you can and bringing back help."_

 _Alfirin nodded, he bent forward to press a fatherly kiss against Legolas' hot and clammy forehead before abruptly turning to Mýlon and grabbing his tunic, pulling him close. "You stay close to him," he hissed to him, his yellow-green eyes alit and his teeth bared. "You asked this of him, now you need to make sure that he lives through it. Is that understood?"_

" _Y-yes…" Mýlon stuttered in response._

 _Alfirin gave a short nod and then pushed Mýlon back towards Legolas before running to the nearest tree and leaping into its branches, already speeding out of sight as he jumped and ran from branch to branch._

" _Set out!" Thalon commanded immediately, not wanting to waste even one moment more._

 _The two elves carrying the stretcher looked to Legolas as if asking if he was ready and first began walking when he had given them a tired nod. He moved with the stretcher and walked beside it, always keeping his hand in Filegil's and often moving it to her wrist to check her pulse. Mýlon walked beside him, anxiously watching his sister and – to Legolas' surprise – him._

 _._

 _The walk seemed endless as they travelled through the dark forest. Mýlon watched as Legolas became paler and paler, until he could just as well have been a ghost. Nevertheless, the elfling kept on walking beside the stretcher, giving energy to his sister without a word of complaint. A while ago, Legolas had begun walking with closed eyes but seemed to know every root and every tree in spite of this, stepping over or around every obstacle._

 _It was first after the first few hours of walking that he began tripping, sometimes over roots that he hadn't raised his foot high enough to bypass and sometimes over his own feet. Mýlon began to notice a small limp in his steps and as he caught Legolas for the umpteenth time, he asked the two carrying the stretcher to stop for a moment, as he took Legolas' elbow and guided him over to sit on it._

" _Is this all right?" Mýlon asked Nestarion and Carnil, who were carrying the stretcher._

" _It's fine," Carnil answered with a roughish smile. "It was made to carry his weight as well, although I can hardly feel the difference."_

" _Legolas, are you all right? Can you continue?" Nestarion asked worriedly._

 _Legolas turned his eyes from staring confused at Mýlon and gave him a weak smile. "I'm all right…" he said. "No need to waste energy walking … when it can be given to her."_

 _And so they continued, Legolas sitting on the edge of the stretcher and Mýlon walking beside it, looking alternately at Filegil and Legolas. This was why he noticed Legolas' breathing more shallow and rapid as time went by and the way his hand sometimes twitched towards the leg where he had been wounded._

" _Does it hurt?" he asked without pausing to think._

 _Legolas' eyes fluttered open at the question and for a moment he just looked at him with an unreadable look in his eyes but then he gave him a weak smile. "I've had worse…" he replied guardedly. "It's not so bad… I can feel the venom spreading, though…"_

 _Mýlon was all too aware of the awkwardness between them and the fact that he had caused it, but as he looked upon Legolas' pale face now he felt nothing but shame, shame that was deepened by the fact that it had been the elfling Legolas who had saved him when he had frozen during the battle._

" _What does it feel like?" he asked, swallowing thickly and looking at Legolas anxiously, as if he was afraid that Legolas was going to lash out at him._

 _Legolas was silent for a while this time, too. Once more looking at him with that unreadable look in his eyes. Then he seemed to relax and responded calmly, closing his eyes, "You've never been wounded…?"_

"… _Not really," Mýlon admitted, his shame knowing no bounds at that question. He had always scoffed when rumors flew that the Prince had been wounded in one way or the other, telling everyone that would listen that the Prince was doing all of it to get attention and that he had most like only gotten a few bruises._

" _Pain spreads up from the wound," Legolas muttered. "Your fever grows as your body tries to fight off the poison. Dizziness, tiredness, nausea, and difficulty breathing. Depends on how much you venom you have in you…"_

 _Mýlon swallowed thickly and look anxiously from Legolas to Filegil. "So my sister is feeling all that… only worse…?"_

 _Legolas opened his eyes and looked at him. "Don't worry…" he said softly, "I'm fighting the venom for her… She can't feel anything… I'll make sure that she makes it…" He stared into the distance. Even though Legolas was pale, his cheeks bore flushes from fever and sweat ran down the side of his face._

"… _What's fighting the venom in you, then…?" Mýlon whispered._

 _Legolas didn't seem to hear the question because he didn't answer and after a moment he whispered, "I'm going to sleep… for a little while. …I can keep sending your sister energy… and my body can restore itself slightly…"_

" _Is it safe?" Mýlon asked._

 _Legolas' eyes slowly focused on his once more, unreadable but the time it had taken for the stupor to leave had been too long for comfort. "Wake me every half hour… if you have trouble rousing me then call the Captain and have him separate me from her for a little while… until I regain consciousness…"_

 _Mýlon barely managed to nod before Legolas was moving to lie down beside his sister on the stretcher, moving his hand from her hand to her arm. It seemed almost instantly that his face relaxed completely in sleep, his eyes alarmingly remaining closed. Mýlon felt shock punch him in the gut at how much Legolas looked like an elfling as he slept, and for the first time really thought about just how young the Prince was._

 _He had to tear his eyes away because of the guilt that tore through him._

 _._

 _The procession moved on for hours, Mýlon waking Legolas every half hour. In the beginning Legolas woke easily, if a little disoriented, but slowly it became more difficult to shake him to awareness. He was just about to get Captain Thalon when a call of alarm went up through the patrol._

 _For a moment everything was tense, but then someone said, "It's King Thranduil and Alfirin!" Immediately, hands disappeared from swords once more, and Mýlon watched as Thalon strode up to the King's horse before he turned to Legolas. He took hold of Legolas' shoulder and shook it roughly, slowly managing to force Legolas out of sleep, disoriented and sluggish but awake._

 _Nestarion and Carnil looked on worriedly and when they saw Legolas awake, they gently lowered the stretcher to the ground. Mýlon took hold of Legolas' arm and pulled him upright so he wouldn't fall asleep again._

 _He was about to say something when a familiar voice calling his name made him halfway turn before someone ran into him and wrapped their arms around him. Recognizing his father's voice and sent, he allowed himself to melt into the embrace, letting the stress from everything that had happened slowly melt out of him._

 _His father held him for a while before drawing back, looking at him with warm and worried eyes before turning to Filegil and immediately beginning to fuss over her, asking Nestarion heaps of questions about her condition._

 _When he turned his attention back to Legolas, he saw that the elfling was looking slightly more aware and awake than when he had first woken. He was looking towards where Thalon and Thranduil were talking._

" _Your father is here," Mýlon commented. "Do you want me to bring him?" In the past, that question would have been accompanied by scorn and contempt, but now he couldn't bring himself to show the same._

 _Legolas' answer surprised him, though. "…No, it's all right," he whispered, turning his eyes from Thranduil to Mýlon and giving him a weak smile as he said, "He's busy… I'll see him when he has time."_

 _Fortunately, it wasn't long before the King came to their part of the procession, but to Mýlon's surprise the King had only dropped a hand on Legolas' shoulder and asked him if he had everything under control, like he was talking to any other soldier. Legolas didn't seem surprised, though, and answered him in affirmative; his voice soft and tired. Thranduil gave a short nod and then trailed over to where his father was speaking to Nestarion about Filegil's condition._

 _No more words passed between the King and Prince as the procession began once more. Legolas and Filegil were loaded onto a small wagon that the King and his men had brought. Everyone else was given horses and the journey to the Halls suddenly picked up the pace. Alfirin was back at Legolas' side, the crazy wood-elf giving him nothing but a predatory grin for looking after his ward._

 _Legolas didn't attempt to sleep again, instead settling for leaning heavily against the side of the wagon. Despite the King's outward detachment from his son, Mýlon noticed him looking back at his son consistently throughout the trip to the Halls._

 _They reached the Halls within the hour, healers already standing at the ready. A flock of them immediately jumped onto the wagon, waking Legolas from his half-doze. The Prince managed to shake himself enough awake to sluggishly tell the healers Filegil's condition and that he had to stay with her until she was stabilized._

 _Mýlon watched as the healers' expressions darkened as they checked his sister's condition, and guessed that even with Legolas' help she was running out of strength. One of the healers had turned to Legolas instead and his face also twisted into a frown when he placed a hand on the Prince's forehead and pulse._

 _Filegil was gently lifted onto another stretcher and Legolas went with her as the healers began to edge her off the wagon, almost crashing to his knees as his legs momentarily refused to support his weight. Mýlon felt like he was living in a haze as he watched Alfirin catch Legolas before he could fall and support him as he stumbled alongside the stretcher to the healing ward, still giving his sister energy even though he could barely stand._

 _Mýlon trailed them numbly and watched as the healers placed his twin sister on one of the beds, his father hovering worriedly over her. Alfirin deposited Legolas in the chair beside the bed and kneeled beside it worriedly, as Legolas' eyes fell closed and he sagged against the back of the chair. The healers were already there with the antidote in their hands, brewed when Alfirin had come to them, and quickly administered it to both Legolas and Filegil as other healers took care of their wounds._

 _Legolas was quickly done with treatment, but waited still for the healers to tell him that Filegil was stable, growing ever paler. Suddenly, his body slowly went slack and he slouched forward. Alfirin made a shocked cry and reached out to grab his ward before he could fall to the floor. At that exact moment, the doors to the ward opened once more and King Thranduil strode inside. He took one glance at the situation and flew to his son, reaching him far faster than what should have been possible._

 _Mýlon watched as he placed his hands on Legolas' shoulders. Instantly, it was like a jolt went through the Prince and his eyes flew open simultaneously as his aura brightened once more. Legolas gasped for breath and Thranduil helped him lean carefully back against the back of the chair, casting a fierce glare at the healers._

" _Haven't you stabilized her yet?" he asked with barely concealed anger and impatience._

" _Give me a few more moments, my King," the head healer said tersely, not looking up from where he was taking care of one of Filegil's wounds._

 _Thranduil huffed in annoyance and once more concentrated on Legolas, brushing his sweaty hair behind his ear before placing his hand against his forehead. There was barely anything to read on the King's face, but Mýlon could have sworn that he had seen his mouth thinning and a small frown appearing between his eyebrows. Legolas looked like he was burning up…_

" _Can you take over for him, sir?" Mýlon wasn't even aware of what he was saying before the words were already out of his mouth and Thranduil's eyes focused on him._

" _I cannot," the King answered, his response surprisingly calm compared to the anger he had directed towards the healer. There was something in his eyes, though, something that told him that the King knew exactly what he had done to his son. His attention flickered momentarily to the bruise that stood out starkly on Legolas' cheek…_

" _I do not have the ability to connect with someone I do not share blood with," the King continued. "Only Legolas can do so."_

 _Mýlon looked down and saw that the King discreetly held his son's hand in his, just like Legolas was holding Filegil's, but before he could comment one of the healers spoke up._

" _There," he said, his hand of Filegil's pulse. "She is responding to the antidote… her pulse is stronger. I think that you can slowly let go of her Prince Legolas."_

 _For a moment, it wasn't certain that Legolas had heard him, but then the elfling's eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing sapphire irises. It was shocking to see how his eyes had changed color. Thranduil leaned forward to whisper something in his ear and the next moment Legolas nodded and slowly let his hand slide out of Filegil's, loosening the rigid grasp he had had on it._

 _They watched with baited breath for what would happen, the healers watching Filegil's pulse and breathing closely. His twin's breathing began to become strained and her cheeks slowly reddened with the onset of fever, but she remained stable and the healers nodded approvingly._

" _She's stable," the head healer sighed._

 _At those words, Legolas seemed to lose the tight control he had held on himself and he slumped together, trembling. Thranduil moved forward and wrapped his arms around his son, allowing him to rest against his shoulder. Barely, a minute passed, though, before Legolas' body went completely limp. Thranduil seemed to have anticipated this and he calmly stood up while pulling Legolas into his arms._

" _Order them to clear the hallway," the King said authoritatively._

 _Mýlon turned and saw that Captain Thalon and another guard were standing by the door and probably had been for some time. Both of them nodded and swept out of the healing ward, already commanding the people outside to disperse and sending guards out to clear the rest of the way to the royal wing._

 _It wasn't long before Captain Thalon came back inside and said, "It's cleared, my King. Do you want me to carry the Prince?"_

" _I have him," Thranduil said calmly as he began walking towards the door. "Come Ecphen."_

 _The head healer followed briskly after the King, no questions asked, just like Thalon and the other guard, as he strode out into the hallway and moved towards the Royal wing. Mýlon found himself trailing after then as well, trying to ignore the pounds of his heart as he focused on the sight of Legolas' head lying limply against his father's shoulder, his eyes closed and his face pale._

 _He looked so small…_

 _As they reached the Royal wing, the doors to the King's private rooms were thrown open and the Queen rushed out, her eyes growing wide with worry when she saw her son. Queen Emelin rushed forward and brushed her hand over Legolas' hair and cheek, placing a kiss against his forehead and rushing her husband inside. The healer Ecphen followed, but then the door was shut and he found himself standing in the hall with his Captain and another guard._

" _Will he be all right…?" he asked, anxiously watching the door._

 _Thalon looked at him with a mixture of wariness and grimness. "Eventually. He probably won't be able to join a patrol in a while so you should be pleased." He wasn't an idiot; he had noticed the feud between the novices._

"… _No… I…" Mýlon started choked, but was unable to stop himself from suddenly bursting into tears, shock finally leaving him._

 _Thalon sighed and placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. "But then neither will you," he said softly, but firmly. "I'm putting you on evaluation for a while. You're not going out there again until I'm sure that you can conduct yourself properly."_

 _Mýlon nodded through his tears unable to respond._

" _Now let's get you back to your parents." Thalon led him down the hall once more by a hand on his shoulder._

"He respected you after that?" Maliel asked.

Legolas gave her a small smile. "A lot of people respected me after that," he said and looked out over the snowy plains. "Mýlon changed the most, completely changing his attitude towards me and actually becoming somewhat of a friend. When Filegil woke, he told her what I had done, but she didn't want to believe him, or at least until she saw for herself that I was still unconscious."

"How long were you out?"

"A week," Legolas answered. "I was still quite weak when I woke and had to sleep a lot, but I bounced back pretty quickly after the second week. Ada muttered darkly to himself for a whole day before he gave me permission to go out with Captain Thalon again."

"What about Mýlon and Filegil?" Maliel asked.

"They were sent back to training and joined the patrols again a few years later."

Maliel nodded and gazed intently at him before saying, "It's funny. Since I was a girl I've always known about the respect that every soldier in Mirkwood had for you, but I always thought that that was the way it was and that they had always felt thus. It's only now I realize how much you must have fought to gain it."

"Respect is earned," Legolas responded. "I was a weird child, a child of the forest, half-Silvan, half-Sindar, with powers they couldn't understand. They watched me get privileges because of who my father was, a child – in their eyes – joining something that they had spent their whole lives on… It's no wonder that it took them a long time to find it in their hearts to respect me."

"How did you manage?"

"I've found," Legolas said softly as he looked to where his grandsons where playing, "that no matter what, if you always treat a person with respect, if you refuse to stoop to their level, then after a while those worth knowing will begin to respect you as well, even if it is only grudgingly."

O

Loud music pulsed through the forest, mixing with waves of laughter and conversation coming from under the long pavilion, shaped from eight trees whose canopies shielded the long tables underneath it from snow. Lanterns had been hung on the branches and food and drinks were aplenty inside.

It was winter solstice.

Legolas laughed merrily where he was sitting at the table with Elrohir, Elladan, Isilmë and Yúcalë. Maliel had taken the twins up to rob the dessert table, and Arwen and Aragorn were dancing in front of where the band was playing along with many other elves. It was more of a weird gathering of musicians than an actual band, made out of Silvan, Sindar, and Noldor, but they mixed every culture together perfectly and there was no doubt that they were a merry gathering.

Maliel returning with the twins momentarily cut off Elladan and Yúcalë's exaggerated argument about which of them had the prettiest eyes and hair, clearly discussed only for the sole purpose of annoying Isilmë.

"Caladel, you think your uncle has the prettiest eyes of me and this crazy wood-elf, don't you?" Elladan asked with a wide grin.

Caladel laughed and shook his head before he responded, "Yúcalë has bright green eyes just like uncle Alfirin."

Yúcalë burst out in triumphant laughter, slapping his thigh. He then turned to Isilmë and winked exaggeratedly to her, to which her eyes only narrowed.

"Caladel," Elladan groaned pitifully. "You do realize you're incriminating yourself as well, right? Your eyes are the same color as mine."

Immediately, Caladel frowned and then turned to his brother, placing his hands against Naruvir's cheeks and looking into his twin eyes. Naruvir reached out to poke his twin's stomach, causing Caladel to snort in laughter and jump back.

"You're getting yourself out of this," Naruvir told him and reached out to take one of the cookies from the plate they had gathered.

"But, Naruuu," Caladel whined.

Everyone laughed once more, only to be interrupted by the sound of one of the wood elves crying out, "Anarórë! Anarórë!" [Sunrise! Sunrise!]

Immediately, the cry was repeated by all of the wood elves with whoops of joy, and everyone sprang to their feet, quickly throwing off their shoes and running barefoot out into the snow. The sindar and noldor who knew the tradition followed suit, shaking their heads but laughing.

"Come," Legolas chuckled, standing from the table. "We will once more dance to welcome the sun after the longest night of the year." He pulled off his own shoes and waited for Naruvir to take his off before taking his hand and dragging him towards where the others were joining hands with each other on the blanket of snow and forming wide circles, already spinning around in the core circle.

The others followed them, Elladan and the twins being the only ones who hadn't experienced it before. It was first this year that Naruvir and Caladel had been allowed to stay all night at the celebration and Elladan had never held winter solstice in the company of a majority of wood elves.

Elves were already joining hands to form a long line before running around the circles that had already formed and running in the opposite direction of those in front of them, the first person grabbing hold of the last to close the new ring of elves.

Legolas reached out to another elf in the line and Naruvir grabbed hold of Caladel, who was dragging Elrohir by the hand and the rest joined them before the ring was filled. They danced around and around the rings before them, the whole ground seeming to be moving with them as the sky slowly lightened.

Slowly the music from the band started to gradually speed up, until squeals of delight and laughter rang through the sea of dancing elves. One by one, the circles started breaking apart as elves lost their grips on one another and tumbled to the ground, laughing merrily.

In their ring, Naruvir and Caladel quickly lost their grip on each other as the tempo started to become too quick and the loss of tension caused everyone to crash into the snow, laughing dizzily. As they slowly regained their bearings, they watched as the sky lightened completely and the sun slowly rose to chase off the longest night and shine through the darkness, causing the sky to turn orange and purple.


	13. Innocent games

**Chapter thirteen – Innocent games**

 _The 18th year of the Forth Age. Caladel and Naruvir are twenty years old._

"CALADEL! NARUVIR! You better let me out of here _right now_ or I'm going to whack you so hard into next week that you're not going to remember your first names!"

Elrohir pounded on the closet door once more before knocking aside the cloak that once more fell down to cover his face. He was just about to raise his hand to pound on it a second time when the closet door was abruptly opened and he looked straight in Glorfindel's not so amused face. Immediately, he struggled not to laugh.

"Why hello, Elrohir," Glorfindel greeted him sarcastically. "Was it your turn this time to be on the receiving end of another one of your sons' pranks? I was met by a rather interesting one myself just this morning."

Glorfindel's unruly hair was riddled with small feathers and one half of his eyebrow seemed to have been shaved off. The half that was left was just about twitching with annoyance, although there did seem to be a small amount of amusement hidden underneath it.

"I'm sorry," Elrohir said, failing at sounding sympathetic because of the chuckle that fell off his lips at that moment.

Glorfindel glared at him and then walked off.

"I'll talk to them!" Elrohir called after him, before snorting and shaking his head with a grin. The twins took after him and Elladan… and all his attempts at having a conversation with them ended with one or the other pointing that out. From what he had seen Caladel was mostly the instigator, Naruvir seemed to need a bit more convincing before taking action. Always very thoughtful, his youngest child.

Glorfindel and Elladan had moved to Cirban Gilion a few years past, bringing with them those from Rivendell that hadn't chosen to follow Celeborn to the west. From that moment on, the hidden valley had ceased to be a refuge, a service for which it wasn't really needed in the new world.

Elrohir took a deep breath and forced a scowl onto his face before walking out of his and Maliel's bedroom and down the stairs into the kitchen. There stood Maliel, humming and baking a fresh batch of bread. She looked up and smiled sweetly to him as he came down.

"And why, may I ask, didn't you come up to let me out?" Elrohir asked crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow at her.

"What are you talking about Ro?" Maliel asked sweetly, her smile widening. There was something very Legolas about that smile, Legolas when he was in his wood-elf mood. "I sent Glorfindel up to let you out."

"Yes, after twenty minutes." Elrohir scowled.

"Oh, but twenty minutes is absolutely nothing," Maliel said, "wasn't that what you said last night when you were late for the dinner that I had spent all night making." She walked up to him and tapped him on the chest with the wooden spoon that she was using for baking.

Half grimacing and half smiling, Elrohir raised his hands in surrender. "I already apologized for that," he winced, before moving forward, placing his hands on her hips and giving her his most charming smile. "But perhaps there is more I should do… to make up for it."

Ignoring the way Maliel's eyes narrowed, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her lips, circling her with his arms and drawing her closer. The wooden spoon was squished between them, staining both of their clothes with flour and dough.

As Elrohir drew back, Maliel looked at him for a moment with hazy eyes before smiling brightly and handing him the spoon. "Since you are so eager, you can finish baking the bread while I go see if I can salvage Glorfindel's room, soothe his ruffled pride, and restore his love for your sons."

Maliel winked at him and gave him a peck on the cheek before turning and walking out of the kitchen.

Elrohir snorted and shook his head as he turned to the counter, muttering under his breath. "Why is it that whenever they do something wrong they're suddenly _my_ sons?"

O

Caladel and Naruvir shared a laugh as they walked over the grass.

"Did you see Ada's face when we shoved him into the closet?" Caladel said through his chuckles. "Or Glorfindel's when he stormed out of his room, looking more like a bird than an elf?"

Naruvir covered his mouth to smother a laugh before smiling widely to his twin. "Do you think that he will say yes?" he asked.

"Of course," Caladel answered enthusiastically. "Granddad trained both Ada, uncle, Gruinor," he jumped onto a bench and sauntered across it before jumping down once more, "Pengon, Roben, and many others. He won't say no to training us as well. Ada and Nana don't want us to start training yet, but I heard some of the others say that Granddad already began training when he was eight years old. He can't possibly say no when we're more than twice as old as he was then."

"And if he does?" Naruvir chuckled with an arched eyebrow.

"Then we'll prank him," Caladel grinned.

"Granddad?" Naruvir said skeptically. "Cal, there's a reason we don't prank Granddad. We've both seen the look in his eyes when he thinks we aren't looking…"

"O don't worry, Naru," Caladel responded. "We won't do anything serious, we'll just lock him in the weapons shed like we did with Yúcalë last month. He picked the lock almost instantly and jumped out laughing, putting us in headlocks. Granddad is so strong that he could kick that door up within a second."

"You're right," Naruvir agreed after a moment. Looking into his twin's matching silver eyes, he smiled. "It will take more than that to take down our legendary Grandfather. And besides, I'm sure that Granddad will say yes. He always says yes to teach us new things."

They reached the empty training grounds moments later and walked to the training shed. Caladel turned to grin excited to Naruvir before taking out the key that they had taken from Legolas' desk earlier that day, opening the doors, and stepping inside. Rows of weapons filled the shed, bows, quivers, swords, knives, axes, and everything else that existed.

"Look," Naruvir said as he walked up to the barrel that held wooden training swords, "Training swords."

"There's no need for those," Caladel said with a chuckle. Naruvir looked up to see him standing by a rack of swords made of steel or mithril. "What the point of wasting time learning how to use wooden swords when we could just skip straight to real ones?" He gave Naruvir a cocky grin.

"No." Naruvir pronounced flatly. "Ada would kill us."

"Oh come on, Naru," Caladel whined before giving his brightest smile. "We'll use the ones that have been dulled, I'm not suicidal." He gripped the blade of one of the dulled swords to demonstrate, before drawing one of them off the rack with an expression of surprise.

"Wow, this is really heavy." Caladel whispered surprised, before turning to Naruvir. "Here, you try." He held it out to him.

Swayed by boyish desire to hold a real sword, Naruvir stepped away from the wooden swords and took the hilt, allowing the weight to fall into his hand. Immediately, his arm dropped slightly and a surprised expression came over his face. Raising a finger, he ran it down the length of the dulled edge.

"I guess it can't hurt when the edges are dulled," Naruvir said and gave his twin a lopsided grin. "Let us try them out!"

Caladel drew another and they walked out of the shed and into the field together. The training field was rarely occupied. Most of those who had moved to Cirban Gilion were old warriors that had been wielding weapons for centuries, and besides, the time for war was over. The only times weapons were drawn were during mild skirmishes during patrols.

Caladel and Naruvir took positions across from each other on the field, raising their weapons. Caladel hesitantly knocked his sword against Naruvir's. Naruvir almost lost his grip on the sword and managed to cling on, after a moment he copied his twin's action and soon the sound of swords slowly meeting each other filled the air.

The two of them were so focused on what they were doing that they didn't even noticed someone arriving before hands reached out to grip each of their arms, halting their swords from clashing once more.

Caladel and Naruvir jerked their heads up; their wide eyes meeting ones of sapphire. Legolas' eyes were suddenly very serious and sharp, and they cringed inwardly.

"What are you doing here?" Legolas asked, his voice tense. "And why did you send a message for me to meet you?"

The twins stared at him open-mouthed for a moment, but then they took half a step back and lowered their swords. Caladel gave Legolas his most winning smile as he said, "Granddad! We asked you to come here because we wanted to ask you if you would train us? We heard from Ada and everyone else that you trained them in the past, and that you were really good at it?"

Legolas stared at them for a moment, but then sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "Valar…" he sighed before looking at the twins once more. "Caladel, Naruvir, your father already told you that he doesn't want you to start training until you're at least thirty years old."

"But that's not fair!" Caladel protested.

"Granddad, you started training when you were eight," Naruvir said rationally. "You could convince Ada that we're ready, too. You had already been patrolling for two years by our age."

"The times were different then," Legolas answered calmly, moving his gaze to the swords that were held in the twins' hands. "There is no need for you to wield a weapon, especially not before you've shown some sign that you've become mature enough to wield one."

"Why won't anyone see that we aren't little kids anymore?" Caladel despaired, his voice tinged with anger and hurt. "We are just as mature as any of you!"

"You are mature when you begin to realize that handling a weapon is not a game," Legolas said seriously as he reached forward and took the swords from Caladel and Naruvir's hands, moving too quickly for them to react. "It is not something you take up because you think that it is cool, or because you feel like it. Being mature is understanding, that every time you pick up a sword you hold your opponents and your own life in your hands."

"We know that," Naruvir said flustered.

"Do you?" Legolas asked, his grip tightening around the hilt of the swords until his knuckles turned white. His eyes were slightly wild as he said, "Then why is it that I find you here, with no supervision and no training, hacking away at each other with real swords?"

"Those aren't real swords," Caladel said, beginning to look nervous as well. "They are blunt. We know what a real sword looks like."

"And you think that just because these swords don't have a sharp edge they can't kill you? They can't hurt you?" Legolas stared at them incredulously, before rounding up on them with a lecture that he had given some times in the past. "You are not accustomed to handling a weapon of this length and weight and therefore your control over it is scarce at best! Too much force and one of you being slow to parry could end in broken bones, broken necks or head wounds that leave you in comas for months, or dead!

"The two of you have no business taking swords from the shed, much less using them against each other. This is no game, Caladel, Naruvir. You could have been seriously hurt! If I hadn't come when I did, then no one would have known where you were if anything happened."

Both twins could see the worry deep inside Legolas' eyes and Naruvir looked hard enough to realize that his hands were trembling slightly.

"You need to trust your father when he says that you aren't ready to begin training yet," Legolas said. "Your actions here only prove that he is correct in thinking that you aren't mature enough. Now we are going to put the swords back where you found them and then both of you are coming with me to see your father."

Naruvir and Caladel's cheeks flushed deeply with red, their eyes showing their feelings of betrayal, mortification, and anger. Legolas' gaze was unmerciful as he stared them down until they had no choice but to give a nod in response. Seeing this, Legolas gave a curt nod as well before turning and striding towards the shed.

The twins' feelings melted together through the bond they shared until they were all consuming, Caladel's anger and indignation, and Naruvir's mortification and pain at seeing his grandfather disappointed.

They followed behind Legolas to the shed, silent as death. This was the first time their grandfather had been this displeased with them… and a sense of betrayal and shame lay deep under all of their other feelings. Their grandfather was going to tell their father what they had done, after all the times he himself had helped them with schemes and pranks without telling their parents anything?

When Legolas disappeared into the dark inside of the shed with the two swords, Caladel rushed forward and pulled the door shut and quickly locking it with the key, ignoring the startled cry that came from inside. Then he took hold of Naruvir's arm and stormed off with him.

"Cal, are you sure that we should-?" Naruvir tried to say as he was dragged along.

"It's his own fault!" Caladel said; his voice slightly choked. "He was going to tell Ada! He can kick the door up or pick the lock easily, this is only to give us a head start."

"Where are we going?" Naruvir asked numbly.

"Our spot by the lake," Caladel told him, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. "They'll never see us as anything other then children! He wouldn't even believe us when we said that we had it under control! He barely even listened to us!"

O

The darkness hit him like a kick to the chest as the sound of a door being slammed shut came from the entrance. A cry escaped his lips before he could stop it and he stumbled backwards, his breathing speeding up and his pulse raging in his ears. It suddenly felt like he was walking in fog as dizziness and trembling followed his shortness of breath. He felt like he was choking.

He was Legolas, Prince of the Kingdom of Mirkwood. His father was King Thranduil.

He stumbled farther backwards and instantly bumped into something, knocking it down as he tripped over it. Pain flared from different points of his body as the sound of metal striking metal clanged through the darkness and he landed on several sharp items.

He lay there for a second trembling, sweating, and heaving for breath. His eyes were opened wide as if it would allow him to see some kind of light in the darkness, but there was none… A haze covered his sight.

He was Legolas, Prince of the Kingdom of Mirkwood. His father was King Thranduil.

The familiar shape of a hilt dug into his palm and he grabbed tightly hold of it before scrambling backwards once more, making the clanging start again as he in mounting desperation tried to get away, feeling like the walls would close in on him.

Just as he felt like his heart would break out of his chest, his back hit a wall and he pushed himself firmly against it, halfway choking and halfway sobbing in relief. He wrapped his arms around his knees and tightened his bruising grip around the hilt of the knife he had grabbed, holding it outward.

He was Legolas, Prince of the Kingdom of Mirkwood. His father was King Thranduil.

The faint scent of blood was in the air and he already felt like he was sinking into a sea of it, just like in his dreams, reality slipping away from his grasp. Flashes upon flashes of memory and pain and blood and fire and grief and screaming and WAR ran through his mind at a dizzying speed.

" _Hello Ada_ ," an elfling's voice suddenly giggling liltingly right beside him.

Another cry left Legolas and he jerked his body around all the while scrambling backwards in panic. Shock punched him in the gut as his eyes met lifeless green ones that were slowly darkening to black.

" _Did you miss_ _ **me**_ _?"_

Legolas back hit a corner and he pushed himself as far into it as he could come, clenching his eyes shut and clasping his hands over his as he shook his head frantically in denial.

The lilting laughter echoed unhindered through his head.

O

"Have you seen the twins?" Elrohir asked, showing bewilderment as he poked his head into the kitchen.

"I haven't seen them all day," Maliel answered as she placed a pot of soup on the dinning table, already having set it for six people. She looked up worried at Elrohir. "Where do you think they've run off to?"

"I don't know," Elrohir sighed as he stepped inside and walked to the counter, taking the bread that he had finished baking earlier that day and laying it on a cutting board before placing it on the table as well. He dropped down into one of the chairs and propped his elbow on the table so he could rest his chin in his hand. "You don't think I scared them too badly, do you? Usually when they've pulled a prank they only stay away long enough for us to calm down slightly before coming back to gloat over their handiwork."

Maliel smiled to herself before walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder.

"You're a great father, Ro," she said lovingly. "They love you too much to run away from you just because of something you said while being locked in a closet. You know our sons; they are probably out doing some kind of odd job for you to make amends. They may be boys humoring themselves with mischievous acts, but they are also kind and generous, making up for everything when they can."

Elrohir chuckled softly and leaned back against the chair, laying his hand upon her arms that circled his shoulders and resting his cheek against hers.

"Besides," Maliel snickered. "You probably aren't the one they are most anxious to hide from. Perhaps they heard about the fact that I invited Glorfindel to dinner and decided that it was easier to just abandon Cirban Gilion to start a life somewhere else."

Elrohir snorted, barely holding back his laughter. "I thought you had talked with him this afternoon?" he asked with a grin.

"I did." Maliel bowed her head to hide a smile. "He grudgingly agreed to come to dinner after I helped him clear the feathers out of his room. The twins had better be on their best behavior when they do show up, or I don't know what he'll do to them."

"You wouldn't happen to be gossiping about me now, would you?" Glorfindel asked dryly from the doorway.

After startling slightly in surprise, both of them looked up to Glorfindel with a smile. Maliel straightened and drew her arms back from around Elrohir, before walking up to the reborn warrior and placing a kiss against his cheek.

"Thank you for coming, Glorfindel," she greeted him. "I hope that you are hungry?"

"Starved," Glorfindel replied good-naturedly, returning her smile. He then looked towards the table. "Where have your devilish sons run off to?"

"I haven't seen them all day," Elrohir said, rising from the chair and greeting his old mentor as well. "Have you seen them?"

"Nothing but the backs of their tunics as they fled from the scene of crime this noon," Glorfindel told him wryly. "Who else is joining us?"

"Ada," Maliel answered with a frown. "But I haven't seen him all day either, not since I invited him over this morning. He did seem slightly busy with organizing the incoming harvest."

"Him and the twins are probably together," Elrohir said. "Come and sit down while we wait for them. There is no need to let the soup go cold if they have simply lost track of time."

The three of them sat down around the table but all conversation was short and absentminded as they waited for the others to arrive, none wanting to admit their worry and the feeling that something was wrong. After a while, when they were just about to begin pouring up the soup, the front door opened and halted the action.

Their focus immediately went to the kitchen door, waiting until it opened and the twins stepped inside. They were almost grown, reaching the height of a grown elf's shoulder and slowly losing their boyishness. Now, they barely looked up as they walked inside, almost like they were cats creeping in after they had done something wrong, with their ears turned backwards and their heads and tails lowered.

Elrohir eyed them for a second before rising to his feet and walking over to them, placing a palm against the backs of their necks. "Come now," he said gently. "Whatever you've done it can't be so bad that you have to look so down."

The twins jerked their heads up with surprised expressions. They stared at him for a moment before gazing over his shoulder, towards the table. Elrohir caught identical looks of surprise and relief on their faces before the twins turned to throw a confused glance at each other.

They neither said nor did anything as Elrohir guided them over to the table. Maliel stood up and hugged them both before placing kisses on their foreheads. She shooed them over to their seats and took their bowls to fill them with soup.

Elrohir knew his sons. He could see the slightly edginess of the way they sat as well as the small glint of nervousness and guilt in their eyes. They had played many pranks, but never before had they shown this reaction to it, so something more must have happened.

"So what have you been up to all day, boys?" he inquired, wanting to figure out what was wrong.

Both Caladel and Naruvir startled and looked at him with wide eyes. Something was definitely up… They glanced at each other before Naruvir answered cautiously, "We've been by the lake."

"You haven't seen your grandfather, have you?" Maliel asked. "I invited him to dinner as well, but he hadn't shown himself yet. I don't think I've seen him since midday."

Elrohir watched the twins closely and saw the shock that ran through them at those words as well as the guilt deepening in their eyes, suddenly mixing with anxiousness. They looked at each other with wide eyes and the feeling that something was wrong made him incapable of waiting any longer.

He stood up and walked over to the empty chair across from where the twins were sitting and placed his hands on the table before looking intently at them. "What have you done?" he asked sternly.

The twins startled and seemed at a loss for words as they stared at him.

"Caladel, Naruvir. If this has anything to do with why your grandfather isn't here then you need to tell us, right now." Glorfindel added when they didn't say anything. His blue eyes were suddenly alight with alarm and anxiousness.

"We weren't doing anything wrong!" Caladel suddenly blurted out.

"We aren't saying that you did, sweetheart," Maliel said soothingly, "but we need to know. Your grandfather had been through a lot, he may react to certain things differently than others would."

Naruvir looked up sharply at his mother, worry and guilt swam in his eyes but he forced himself to quickly whisper, "We asked him if he would train us how to fight and when he said that he wouldn't we locked him in the weapons shed… But we only wanted to delay him slightly…"

Elrohir felt like he had been kicked in the chest by the implications he drew from what the twins had done. Legolas had been locked in the dark…

"We did it to Yúcalë once and he only used a moment to pick the lock, so we thought…"

Caladel's explanation fell on deaf ears as Glorfindel jumped up from his chair and raced out of the door. Elrohir wavered for a second between making sure his sons were all right and running after him, but when he heard Maliel say something to the boys he decided to let her handle them as he raced out of the house and towards the training grounds.

It wasn't long before he could hear the twins running after them, Maliel calling unsuccessfully for them to come back.

He arrived at the weapons shed just after Glorfindel, in time to stop him from kicking the door in.

"Wait!" Elrohir grunted as he wrapped his arm around Glorfindel and pulled him back from the door. "It will only frighten him more. Let's wait and see if the twins still have the key."

Caladel and Naruvir ran up to them at that moment, wide-eyed and guilt-stricken. Caladel quickly searched his pockets before finding the key and holding it out to him with a shaking hand.

Elrohir took one look at them before deciding that it was useless to try and send them away. He took the keys with a stern, "Stay back and don't say anything."

They nodded and he turned to the door, slipping the key into the keyhole and turning it before gently opening it. Being autumn, the sky was already dark enough to have little effect over the darkness within. He could, however, see the outline of an overturned rack; daggers and long knives littered the ground.

He shared a glance with Glorfindel and they nodded at each other before stepping inside. At first, they didn't see anything, but as they walked further in, they saw something huddled against the far corner of the shed. Elrohir felt his throat tighten at the sight, but moved closer until he could see him better.

Legolas had pressed himself as far against the corner as he could with his legs folded against his chest. His eyes were clenched shut and he had his hands pressed against his ears, even the one that held a dagger. As Elrohir watched, he saw his friend rocking slightly back and forth, his whole body trembling.

A soft noise came from Glorfindel and Elrohir glanced over to see him looking at Legolas with pained eyes. Glorfindel slowly moved forwards and knelt in front of Legolas, keeping some distance between them. Elrohir moved forward as well so he could assist if anything happened.

"…Legolas?" Glorfindel called out softly after a moment.

The moment the sound cut through the air, Legolas eyes snapped open, unfocussed and panicked. His entire body stiffened and he automatically lashed out with the knife. Glorfindel jerked his head back from the attack and caught Legolas' fist, hitting it sharply to knock the blade out his hand. Distracted, he didn't notice Legolas kicking out as well before a boot smacked against his ribs and knocked him backwards.

Elrohir had moved forward the instant Legolas had attacked and managed to grab hold of him before he could fly at Glorfindel while he was down. He wrapped his arms tightly around Legolas, trapping his arms against his chest and gripping his wrists tightly. Legolas squirmed and kicked in his grip, reduced to his basic instincts of defending himself from anything that seemed hostile.

Elrohir cast a glance at Glorfindel to see that the elf was slowly getting up from where he landed, wheezing and holding his chest but all right. His inattention cost him as Legolas threw his head backwards, smacking it into his jaw. His head jerked backwards in response, momentarily making him see stars, but he refused to let go of his grip, tightening it instead.

Then Glorfindel was in front of Legolas once more, sitting on his legs and reaching out to trap his head between his hands. He spoke softly, a long stream of inconsequential nonsense meant to soothe Legolas away from his panic.

Legolas continued to struggle against their grips for a while, but then he slowly began to calm. Elrohir looked towards the door and saw the twins standing with their eyes glued on Legolas, tears rolling down their cheeks.

"Legolas?" Glorfindel asked softly, making Elrohir turn his attention back to the two elves. Legolas was still trembling in his arms, but he had stopped struggling. Elrohir looked down and saw that Legolas eyes were wide and unable to recognize the world around him.

"Legolas… it's me, Glorfindel," Glorfindel said softly, caressing Legolas' cheeks. "…It's the eighteenth year of the forth age… We are in Cirban Gilion. Your city. You are safe here with me…"

Legolas blinked repeatedly, his shaking intensifying as recognition slowly dawned in his dark blue eyes. Elrohir eased up on his grip but didn't let go yet, holding him loosely so he was able to tighten his grip instantly if anything happened.

"It is Wednesday," Glorfindel continued soothingly, trying to help Legolas sort his way through the memories and nightmares that he had been lost in. "The twenty-first of September, and you're late for dinner with Elrohir and Maliel. This is the weapons shed on the training grounds, but the door is wide open."

Legolas shuddered, his breathing choked. He reached out towards Glorfindel, grabbing his tunic tightly and leaning forward until his forehead was pressed against his friend's chest. "Get me out of here…" he begged.

Glorfindel didn't waste a moment as he slipped off Legolas' legs and hoisted him into his arms without even making him loose the steadying grip he had on his tunic. Elrohir stood up as well and followed them towards the exit, matching Glorfindel long strides.

Instead of following Glorfindel as he hurried outside, though, he stopped in front of his boys, taking one look at their tear-stained faces before drawing both of them into a hug. They clung to him like they hadn't done for years.

"We'll talk about this later, all right?" Elrohir said softly. "Right now we just need to make sure that Legolas is going to be fine. …I know that you want to talk with him, but please wait until the morning when he is more steady."

Both of them nodded against his shoulders so he drew back once more, placing a kiss on each of their foreheads before following Glorfindel outside. Glorfindel had carried Legolas to the nearest tree and sat him down so he leaned against the trunk. Even from the distance, Elrohir could see that Legolas' eyes were haunted and shifting in and out of focus.

As he came closer, he also saw just how pale Legolas had become and that his lips were tinged with blue. Glorfindel looked up as he kneeled knelt on Legolas' other side, but he was more focused on Legolas' reaction. Legolas had flinched and immediately jerked towards Glorfindel. He would have punched him if Glorfindel hadn't reacted quickly and caught his fist.

"It's all right," Glorfindel said calmly, straining to hold his fist. "Elrohir is here as well."

Recognition dawned in Legolas' eyes and they widened with horror at what he had almost done. His fist uncurled as his arm sent slack in Glorfindel's grip. "Valar…" he said, his voice weak. "Ro, I'm so sorry…"

"Don't worry about it," Elrohir told him with a gentle smile. He reached out to brush his hand over Legolas' cheek only to have the elf flinch away from that as well. "Sorry…" he apologized after a moment, cursing his own stupidity.

"Elrohir, I think that he is wounded," Glorfindel told him without taking his eyes off Legolas. "I felt that he was slightly damp around the back of his thigh, his back, and there is a cut on his forearm."

Elrohir nodded absentmindedly in response. He then gazed at Legolas and asked him softly, "Is it all right if I check your wounds? I'm only going to touch your arm, thigh and back."

Legolas nodded with a jerk, but watched his moments intensely nonetheless, as he checked the wounds Glorfindel had pointed out. They were all cuts and gashes, no doubt from the daggers that had been littering the ground. He found others on his arms and side. He did nothing more than touch Legolas lightly, but could still feel his friend straining to not flinch away.

"They aren't serious," Elrohir told them when he was done. "They can wait for treatment until we are home."

"Do you want to go now, or do you want to stay here a little longer?" Glorfindel asked softly.

Legolas breathed shakily, his eyes tearing slightly up before he raised a trembling hand to rub them. "Just… just give me a few minutes," he whispered. "A few minutes alone…"

"Anything you need," Elrohir responded in a soft voice and slowly got to his feet, his hands remaining relaxed at his sides at all times. Glorfindel followed his lead, giving Legolas a warm smile, before walking with him over to where the twins were standing.

"Ada, we didn't know…" Naruvir said choked as they came up to them.

"We didn't think that-" Caladel began before Glorfindel interrupted him.

"That's just it!" Glorfindel hissed, his gaze locked on Legolas' form. "You never think! No one in their right minds would lock a person with the kind of background that Legolas has in the dark!"

Both the twins flinched at his tone.

"That's not fair, Glorfindel," Elrohir sighed. "You know that they barely know anything about Legolas' background. Legolas wanted it to remain so for as long as possible… You can't blame them for the fact that we kept the knowledge from them."

Glorfindel deflated at those words, his shoulders sinking slightly. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face before giving the twins a weak smile, "Sorry," he apologized roughly. "I just hate to see him like this… Your father is right, you couldn't have known that this would happen."

"What happened?" Caladel asked with a mixture of desperation and guilt. "We thought he was going to kick the door up within minutes…"

Glorfindel sighed and looked over to where Legolas was sitting against the trunk of the tree, trying to regain a sense of reality. "Being locked in the dark is one of his triggers… He probably had a panic attack, flashbacks, …the darkness keeping him trapped in his memories and nightmares. It's difficult to find one's way back to reality after something like that, so for the next few days you should avoid sneaking up on him or moving towards him too quickly or anything else that might startle him…"

"What other triggers does he have?" Naruvir asked worriedly.

"Countless," Glorfindel answered absentmindedly. "Fire, sounds of battle, the scent of blood, loud sounds, nightmares… There are others, but you needn't worry about everything. Legolas knows them and has learned to keep himself grounded using different techniques… This was just a little too much."

"When you felt his cheeks, were they cold?" Elrohir asked suddenly.

Glorfindel looked at him and nodded. "His whole body is cold. He isn't wearing enough to spent most of the day huddled against the corner of a shed."

Elrohir gave a nod as well. "I thought so," he said. "His lips are a little blue so I think that it was caused by the cold, combined with the fact that his breathing has been too fast and shallow for my liking."

"Elves don't feel the cold…" Naruvir whispered. "Not unless they're fading…"

"Legolas isn't fading," Elrohir said firmly. "His body just isn't resistant any more. It's been put through too much…"

"I'll go see if he is ready to leave," Glorfindel said. "I want him into the heat as soon as possible."

"Go with him, Ada," Caladel said, looking at his father with pained eyes. "We'll follow behind."

Legolas seemed to have calmed down a little while they had been away, but they were still cautious about not making any sudden movements, or touching him without warning. Their assessment was correct as Legolas still flinched away from Glorfindel when he stepped closer to help him stand. After a moment, though, they were on the move.

Glorfindel and Elrohir watched Legolas closely as he seemed to have lost all of his innate elegance to his exhaustion and shakiness, stumbling often. His eyes still lost their focus occasionally, their dark blue depths haunted.

Maliel was already waiting for them when they arrived, carefully approaching her father and giving his hand a small squeeze before leading him towards the couch in front of the fire in the living room. While they had been gone, she had found blankets and healing supplies, made a calming tea, and warmed a bowl of soup.

Elrohir walked over to his wife while Glorfindel got Legolas settled on the couch and pulled her into a brief hug. "Will you make sure that the twins eat their dinner?" he asked softly. "I think it's best that Legolas doesn't have too many people around him right now."

"Of course," Maliel whispered in response. She then drew back and gazed sadly at his jaw before running her fingers over the steadily forming bruise there. "Take care of him."

Elrohir smiled to her thankfully and waited until she had called the twins with her to the kitchen before walking over to the couch. Slowly but steadily, he treated Legolas' cuts and gashes, clearing everything with Legolas before he did something new.

Legolas' eyes were fixed mostly of the light of the fire, almost like he was drinking it in after so long in the dark. With Glorfindel's help, the two of them managed to coerce Legolas to drink the calming tea and eat what little he could of the soup Maliel had prepared.

"I'm going to stay with you here tonight, Legolas," Glorfindel said softly, as he picked up one of the blankets that Maliel had found. He carefully showed it to Legolas and got a small nod before slowly draping it over the prone and exhausted elf.

"Don't you have… to get up early to go out fishing?" Legolas mumbled, his gaze wavering from focused to unfocussed.

"No," Glorfindel answered gently, swallowing his worry. "I only do that in the summer… It is September."

Legolas' eyes slipped closed. "That's right…" he mumbled. "The harvest…" His voice died down as his breathing began to even out as he fell asleep. It was no wonder that his body was finally giving in after how many hours it had spent in panic and high alert.

Glorfindel smiled fondly and brushed Legolas hair away from his face with a feathery-light stroke of the hand. He then spread another blanket over Legolas, eyeing his blue lips and pale skin worriedly.

"He will have nightmares tonight," Elrohir stated numbly.

Glorfindel nodded wordlessly.

"Do you want me here as well?"

"No," Glorfindel answered. "But thanks. …I think it's best we don't crowd him… I'll call you if anything happens."

"All right," Elrohir said, suddenly feeling drained. He sat there blankly for a moment but then slowly got to his feet. "Can I bring you anything?"

"I think I have everything I need," Glorfindel answered with a smile. "If not then I'll fetch it."

"Good," Elrohir chuckled. He gazed at Legolas for a while before saying, "I better go to the kitchen and help Maliel talk to the twins."


	14. Growing up

_A/N: Hellooooo. Yes, I can assure you that I am very much home (*_*) I agree that it has taken me two weeks and two days to write the chapter, which means that in average I've written a word-page every day to get this out to you ;)_

 _*Falls to my knees and pleads* – Please don't be so angry with the twins (and especially Caladel). They are only kids and they are allowed to make mistakes!_

 _I hope that you will find it in your hearts to forgive them after the chapter:_

* * *

 **Chapter fourteen – Growing up**

When Elrohir stepped into the kitchen, the twins had already finished eating and were sitting miserably by the table. He eyed them with a mixture of sadness and grim understanding. After all, Elladan and him had both unwittingly done more harm than good to Legolas when they had first met him.

As he walked from the door to the table, Maliel looked up and gave him a weak smile. The twins didn't raise their eyes from the table, but both sunk slightly together.

"How is he?" Maliel asked softly.

"Exhausted," Elrohir answered, feeling exhausted himself. He dropped down into one of the chairs across from the twins and rubbed his eyes. "He is sleeping now. Glorfindel is planning on staying with him through the night, to soothe him and help him out of the past when the nightmares hit. He was still slightly disorientated just before he fell asleep…"

"We never meant for any of this to happen…" Naruvir whispered to the tabletop.

Both Maliel and Elrohir turned their eyes to their sons.

"We know, sweetheart," Maliel said gently. "…Neither your father nor I condone locking people in sheds when they don't give you answers that were to your satisfaction, but we know that you never meant for it to go so far as it has… and it has been punishment enough, seeing your grandfather like this…"

"I don't understand _why_ …" Caladel choked, finally lifting his swimming, grey eyes to his parents. " _Why_ didn't he just kick the door up? From all the stories we've been told, Granddad is stronger than anyone here."

"He was," Maliel answered hesitantly after a moment of thought. "Probably still is, if the situation requires it of him… But even the strongest warriors sometimes reach a point where they can't hold themselves together anymore…"

Elrohir reached out to take Maliel's hand in his as she faltered. He continued where she left off. "You have been told stories of Legolas' heroic deeds and other lighter tales… There is no longer any need to bring darkness and horror into the only place that has never seen war. …You have to understand that most of the veterans here see Cirban Gilion – just like the name implies – as being a haven …a sanctuary. And Legolas didn't want to change this notion."

The twins were silent for a moment but then Naruvir muttered, "You said that he didn't want us to know his past…"

"I wasn't because he didn't trust you," Maliel told them, reaching out to gently brush her hand over their hair. "I just don't think that he could bear the thought of you seeing or treating him differently because of it… He wants the two of you to have all the peace and innocence that he has never been allowed, to stretch your childhood for as long as possible."

"But after today we think that you have a right to know," Elrohir finished for her. He gazed at Maliel and she nodded to him, offering him a small smile.

"Your grandfather never really had a childhood," she told her sons. "Already when he was two years old he began showing signs of having inherited his father power and affinity with nature, only stronger. Usually, the ability first manifests itself in members of the royal line when they are much older. Because of the level of power he had and the fact that he was too young to control it properly, he unintentionally began pulling in the memories of the ancient trees around him.

"Throughout his childhood he was plagued by constant nightmares, aging him beyond his years… Being the King's only son also meant that he constantly had a target on his back and there were several close incidents…" Maliel swallowed thickly as she remembered the cessions where Legolas had told her about his earliest years.

Elrohir squeezed he hand before taking over the narrative. "As you have already said, he started training when he was eight years old, joggling both that and tutoring. I have always thought that the amount of lessons he had was extreme and the training he went through bordered on abuse."

"That doesn't mean that it has to be the same for us," Caladel said, upset.

"You're damn right it won't," Elrohir responded brusquely, his eyes showing old anger at how his friend had been treated.

"Elrohir!" Maliel scolded him softly, but was unable to keep a smile off of her lips.

"Sorry," Elrohir apologized unrepentantly before continuing, "I know that it won't be the same, but what matters is the fact that to especially Legolas, who had shed more blood by the time he was your age then you are going to shed in your entire lives, a sword is nothing more than a weapon used to kill."

"But it can also be used to protect," Naruvir protested softly.

Elrohir's lips lifted in a sad smile. "Spoken like someone who has never been in battle. To kill and to protect are more often than not the same thing. …Your side, their side… after a while it doesn't really matter, especially when the blood of a man who probably had a wife and a family runs over your hands."

Maliel drew up his hand and kissed it tenderly to draw him away from his own dark memories, and he smiled to her gratefully.

He then gazed at the twins once more, seeing their identical looks of horror, and the disillusionment that was slowly clearing their eyes.

"Legolas was two years younger than you are now when he took his first life in battle, and continued to do so as he grew older," Elrohir told them. "When he was your age he was captured by orcs for the first time, watching a friend get killed right before his eyes, and being tortured because he was recognized as being the King's son."

Both Naruvir and Caladel whitened instantly, their eyes showing nothing but shock and horror. Neither of them seemed capable of making a sound, Naruvir pressing his lips together so tightly that they turned slightly white and Caladel staring at him slack-mouthed.

"He has gone through countless other traumas," Maliel continued solemnly. "They all piled on top of each other and slowly buried him underneath their weight… but then he met your grandmother, my mother, Faneth…" Maliel's eyes watered and she was forced to swallow thickly before she could continue. "It was clear to see that she was his haven. The only one who could draw him out of his protective shell and ease his burdens. She is the only one, I believe, that he has ever opened himself to so completely, and they loved each other very, very much."

"But no one ever tells us anything about her…" Naruvir whispered pained.

Maliel gave them a shaky smile and reached forward to take both of their hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. "And that is through no fault of yours… It just hurts, still… She would have loved you so much, my two troublemakers…"

"But Granddad's going to hate us for what we've done…" Caladel whimpered.

"No, he won't." Elrohir said gently with a shake of his head. "…The thing about Legolas is that he forgives very easily, …perhaps if he valued himself a little bit more than he does…" Elrohir sighed frustrated and racked his fingers through his hair. "Legolas doesn't even have the ability to hate you… He loves you so much. He will understand that you never meant for any of this to happen. You couldn't have known how much he detests the dark."

"I don't understand…" Naruvir asked confused. "Granddad often took us out when it was dark to show us the constellations and stars…"

"Exactly. The stars were out." Elrohir said in a soft voice. For a second he looked hesitant but then he said, "Legolas probably doesn't want you to know… but some years after my mother had sailed to the West, Legolas joined Elladan and I on a hunt for orcs. …We were captured by slave traders around the Ettenmoors."

Naruvir and Caladel's eyes had widened in shock.

"In the fight I took a blow for Elladan and spent the majority of our month-long enslavement unconscious, but the leader recognized the royal sigil on Legolas' weapons… He had a grudge against Thranduil and was delighted when he found out that he had gotten his hands on the King's son."

The twins were beginning to look slightly sick.

"They tortured him and made Elladan and him drag rocks to build a wall." Maliel placed her hand on his rigid arm and he forced himself to relax. "…I'm not going to tell you everything they did," he said hoarsely, "but to understand his reaction to what you did, you need to know that twice they locked him up in tiny room, so small that he couldn't even stretch out completely, in complete darkness. The first time he was locked in the dark for six days without any food or water, …the second time it was nine."

At those last words, Caladel suddenly bolted from his chair around the dining table to the kitchen, bending over the sink and promptly throwing up. Elrohir rushed to his feet and over to his firstborn son, rubbing his hand up and down his back. He could feel that Caladel's body was shaking with silent sobs even as he heaved up what dinner he had managed to get down.

"Shh…" Elrohir whispered soothingly as Caladel slowly stopped heaving. His son coughed weakly before dissolving into tears. He wrapped one arm around Caladel while using the other to rinse out the sink. He then soaked a cloth in water and gently ran it over Caladel's mouth and face.

When this was done, he wrapped both arms around Caladel and held him tightly as he cried, looking over to see Maliel gently speaking with an also grief-stricken Naruvir. For a second he almost regretted his decision to tell them, but even though it was a harsh lesson it was one that would help the twins grow…

As Caladel slowly calmed down once more, Elrohir filled glass with water and handed it to him with a gentle smile. He was about to say something when a muffled cry came from behind the door to the living room followed instantly by low murmuring. He snapped his head up in response to the sound, a grim expression on his face, and felt Caladel stiffen in his arms, another batch of tears rolling down his cheeks.

After another a minute or two, the murmuring died down and it was quiet from the living room once more. Maliel and Elrohir shared a sorrowful glance. It had begun.

"Caladel, Naruvir," Maliel said softly. "How about the two of you come with me and I'll get you settled in for the night… Both of you are exhausted."

"But…" Naruvir whispered his eyes trained on the door to the living room.

"No buts," Elrohir said with both sternness and gentleness in his voice. He gave them both a weary smile. "Go with your mother. We will continue this tomorrow. …There is nothing that you can do for Legolas at the moment."

The twins nodded meekly and followed Maliel as she gently steered them up the stairs. Elrohir waited in the kitchen until they were out of sight before striding over to the door to the living room and opening it once more. Glorfindel looked up from where he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch Legolas was sleeping on. He had the Prince's hand in his, but Legolas didn't seem peaceful as he constantly twitched in his sleep.

"…Was he aware?" Elrohir asked softly after a moment, referring to whether or not Legolas had known when and where he was when he had awoken from the nightmare.

Glorfindel shook his head tiredly, and offered no more answer as he leaned his head back against the couch.

Elrohir sighed and briefly rubbed his hand over his face to try and sharpen his mind, find something inside his tired thoughts that would help Legolas.

"Go to sleep, Elrohir," Glorfindel whispered from where he was sitting. Elrohir turned to gaze at him once more. "Legolas will ride it out as he has always done… Get some rest now so that you can take over for me in the morning."

Elrohir gazed numbly at his old teacher, probably for longer than he should have, but then he nodded and silently took a step away from the door before closing it. He turned around and walked the length of the kitchen before ascending the stairs and walking straight into his and Maliel's bedroom.

Without thought, he dropped onto the bed and let out a deep exhalation. His eyes automatically fell closed.

He must have fallen asleep because it seemed like only a second had passed before Maliel's hand was placed on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake. She smiled at him as he opened his eyes, and then stood to get ready for bed. He followed her lethargically, changing his clothes and brushing his teeth before climbing into bed once more.

It wasn't long before the candles were blown out and Maliel slid into the bed beside him. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close against his body. She didn't attempt to move away, instead running her fingers comfortingly over his hands.

O

Caladel startled awake to the sound out a choked scream. He jerked upright in the bed and stared at the wall wide-eyed as he listened to the noises from downstairs. Glorfindel speaking softly but feverishly to try and calm Legolas, who was still giving sounds of distress. Another cry echoed through the house before the whimpers and moans were suddenly cut off, replaced by panting. The sound of Glorfindel's murmuring stopped, only to start again after a moment.

He stayed, shaking, in his bed long after the sounds had stopped, lying down once more. For a second, he thought about going to Naruvir for comfort, but then decided against it. After all… he had been the one to convince his twin that locking their grandfather in the shed wasn't a big deal…

Stupid, foolish idiot.

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he stubbornly blinked them away. He had never wanted to hurt his grandfather…

Deep feelings shame and guilt pooled in his stomach until he was sure that he was going to be sick once more. He could no longer do anything to stop the tears that flowed silently from the corners of his eyes and down into his auburn hair.

Everything that his father had told him that evening was like a weight inside his heart and mind… It was a brutal awakening. Almost like all naïve beliefs about his grandfather and war and swords had been ripped from his chest and replaced by cold, hard reality.

His grandfather wasn't indestructible…

On one hand he felt ten years older, weighed down by the knowledge of what he had inadvertently done and his disillusionment, but on the other hand everything that he had been told about his grandfather made him feel so young… So ignorant and spoiled…

Damn it all…

Caladel clenched his eyes shut and laid his arm over them, sniffling and rubbing the sleeve of his nightshirt over the tears that lined his temples and wet his hair. He laid there for a while, unable to let go of his tumultuous feelings and relax enough so that he'd be able to sleep.

Why should he have a restful night when his grandfather was afforded none because of what he had done?

Suddenly, a sound from the kitchen made him still completely. …Someone had turned on the water. He rubbed his arm over his eyes one last time before lowering it and sitting up in the bed. He moved his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, moving quietly over to the door to his room.

He would ask Glorfindel if there was anything he could do to help…

Opening the door, he stepped into the hallway and shuffled towards the stairs to the kitchen. As he passed his parents door, he saw that there was no light underneath nor any sounds from within, and passed by soundlessly. The stairs were slightly illuminated by the moonlight that shone through the window on the wall to the left of it, and he trod down only to come to a complete stop on the last step.

It wasn't Glorfindel who was standing by the sink. It was his grandfather…

For a second, it felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Legolas was standing before the sink, a half-filled glass by his side. His hands were clenching the edges of the countertop as it he was trying to break it as he leaned slightly forwards with his head bowed.

Everything in his grandfather's posture and body bespoke his tenseness and strain. He was still wearing the same tunic that he had been locked up in and even with the faint moonlight, Caladel was able to see the occasional patches of dried blood that spotted it…

His throat constricted painfully and before he was even aware of what he was doing, Caladel was moving towards his grandfather. In the past, Legolas would have been aware of him the moment he left his room, but this time he didn't react even when Caladel stopped a few steps behind him.

"Gran-"

Everything else morphed into a shocked gasp as he almost failed to register what happened, only barely seeing his grandfather spin around before a hand was clenching his tunic and he was slammed against the nearest wall. Shocked, he stared wide-eyed and trembling into his grandfather's deadly but slightly unfocussed eyes.

Before he even had time to comprehend what had happened, he watched as his grandfather's eyes snapped back into reality and widened with horror. Instantly, the grip on his tunic loosened and Legolas sprung back.

Caladel's heart pounded inside his chest and his legs trembled with shock and fear. Feeling like all strength had left him, he slowly slid down the wall until he slumped onto the floor, unable to take his wide, silver eyes from his grandfather's form.

Legolas stood frozen for only a second more unable to process what he had almost done, but then he hurried to Caladel, reaching out towards him with a trembling hand. He staggered closer and dropped onto his knees before Caladel, placing his hand against Caladel's pale cheek.

"Valar…" Legolas whispered, trembling. "…I'm so sorry, Caladel… Did I hurt you…?"

Caladel couldn't get his tongue to form any words and only stared into his grandfather's wide sapphire blue eyes. To him it seemed as though his grandfather's eyes were unusually unshielded, almost vulnerable, like the glass wall that usually guarded his feelings had shattered and everything was flowing around in one chaotic jumble, disorganized and wild. There were deep shadows underneath his eyes…

He was shaken from his thoughts and jerked in surprise when his grandfather slid his hand from his cheek through his hair until it rested against the back of his head, gently feeling for bumps but finding none. Caladel blinked slowly but then reached out, taking hold of his grandfather's tunic and leaning forward until his forehead was pressed against Legolas' chest.

For a brief moment, Legolas stilled completely, but then he wrapped his arms around his grandson. There was more hesitancy in his movements than there normally would be, more uncertainness. "Shh…" Legolas whispered. "You're all right… I'm so sorry…"

Caladel shook his head roughly against his grandfather's chest, tightening his grip on his tunic. It wasn't his grandfather's fault… He was the one that was responsible… He was the one who had startled him, who had locked him in a shed, who was responsible for making him become so unbalanced…

"…I am sorry…" Caladel whimpered after drawing in a shuddering breath, finally feeling able to speak. "I'm so sorry…"

"…What?" Legolas spoke, as if waking from a slight daze. "Oh, it's all right you just startled me… I am the one that should never have attacked you like that. I'm so sorry, Caladel… Everything is all right…"

No it wasn't all right!

Caladel clenched his eyes shut, wanting to shout this at the top of his lungs but once more unable to make a sound for the burning in his throat. His grandfather hadn't understood him at all! It was like he had forgotten that everything was because of what he had done, because he had foolishly locked him in the dark…

His self-condemnation was cut off as his grandfather pulled back from the embrace once more, looking worriedly at him with those stormy, blue eyes. Without the usual barriers, Caladel was able to read the anxiety, guilt, and fear in their depths, and found himself forcing a smile upon his lips.

"I love you, Granddad," Caladel told him, trying to make his voice sound as reassuring and calm as possible despite the fact that everything inside rebelled against making it seem like he was forgiving his grandfather when in truth he himself had done something far more unforgiveable. "I know that you would never hurt me… It wasn't your fault. You don't have to worry about it. After all, Nana says that I inherited your head. There is not a beating it could not take!"

Instantly, it seemed as though a huge weight lifted off his grandfather's shoulder, and relief shined inside those wild eyes of his. A hesitant smile raised the corners of his lips, but his movements were still cautious as he drew back completely from the hug and stood up before helping him to his feet as well and over to the table.

Caladel sat down and watched as his grandfather moved over to the counter and took a glass from one of the cupboards before turning on the water. For longer than necessary, he just stood there with the water running, then suddenly he gave a small jolt and in the next moment filled the glass with water.

Legolas brought the glass over to the table and placed it before his grandson with a tight smile. Caladel watched him anxiously and when Legolas didn't take his eyes off of him, he obediently raised the glass and took a few sips of the water, ignoring the way it turned to dust in his mouth. Legolas looked pleased but Caladel still couldn't ignore it when shortly thereafter his grandfather's eyes started flickering around the kitchen, distracted and distant once again.

Furiously trying to find something he could do that would help him, Caladel's eyes landed on the lantern on the dinning table and the matches, visible by moonlight. As he reached towards them, Legolas' focus immediately snapped to his hand and for a second he tensed before realizing what he was doing. Then he reached out and opened the hatch to the lantern even as Caladel struck a match. The short burst of flame soon calmed and Caladel reached out to hold it against the wick of the candle inside.

In the light that suddenly fell over the table, Caladel was suddenly able to see white lines crossing his grandfather's wrist where his sleeve had slipped down as he had opened the hatch. Scars…

He felt like he was going to throw up as the implications ran through his mind. His whole mind rebelled against the thought that his grandfather had inflicted the wounds himself, but they were staring right at him. Straight and systematic. Cut with a steady hand on an arm that hadn't been struggling against it…

Tears welled up inside his eyes and flowed over, rolling down his cheeks. His whole body was shaking as he pressed his lips together to prevent any sounds from leaving him. Glancing up at his grandfather with desperate eyes, he was immediately met with the sight of Legolas' haunted eyes staring vacantly at the flame inside the lantern, completely unaware of his grandson's distress.

Giving a small sob, Caladel stood from his chair and staggered towards the door to the living room. Through his tears, he opened it and walked into the room. Glorfindel was sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, his eyes vacant in elven sleep, so he moved towards him without pausing to think. As he reached him, he placed his hand on Glorfindel's arm and shook him weakly.

Glorfindel immediately woke and his eyes went to the empty couch before looking up at him, becoming confused and worried as he no doubt saw the tears that continued to roll down his cheeks.

"Caladel, what-?"

Caladel interrupted his groggy question and he said in a hollow voice, "Please help Grandpa…"

Glorfindel's eyes widened, but Caladel didn't wait to see what he would do, instead wandering through the living room, out of the front door, and into the night. For a while he wandered aimlessly until he collapsed against the trunk of a tree, burying his face in his arms and crying noisily, letting go of all the tears he had suppressed.

Damn it all…

O

Caladel woke once more as the first rays of dawn crept through the trees of Ithilien, blinking groggily against the light. He didn't remember falling asleep against the tree but the crick in his neck clearly told him that he had. Realizing that he was warmer than he should have been, he looked down and saw that Glorfindel's cloak had been draped over him during the night.

He must have come to see if he was all right…

Taking in his surroundings, he saw that the tree he had slept against was within sight of his grandfather's house. In his state he hadn't even thought about where he was running…

For a moment, he just stared at the house, but then he got slowly to his feet, took the cloak in hand, and walked over to the blue-painted door of his grandfather's home. He took hold of the brass doorknob and turned it, stepping into the house. Everything was quiet and dim inside.

What was he doing there? It was a question he asked himself as he stood there. His eyes fell on his grandfather's desk and he walked over to it, moving his hand over some of the papers that lay scattered on top of it. His eyes scanned the pages until one of them claimed his focus completely.

It was a list of everything that needed to be done for the upcoming harvest.

He stared at it for a moment but then reached out and took it, stuffing it into his pocket. Before he really understood why he did this, a sound distracted him and he turned to see a small russet rabbit hopping over the grass towards him. A smile involuntarily lifted the corners of his lips as he watched it, one of Lossë's descendants. Lossë, the rabbit that they had found in the Misty Mountains had passed away some years ago, but she had carried several litters before that, populating Cirban Gilion with rabbits.

"Hey there, Rusca," Caladel said softly, reaching down and scooping the rabbit into his arms.

His grandfather had taken the young, male rabbit into his home after it had begun faithfully following him around, almost like it viewed him as its mother.

Caladel petted Rusca gently before walking out of his grandfather's house once more with him in his arms. He walked the well-trodden path that connected his grandfather's house to theirs until he was standing before his own front door once more.

Opening the door silently, he stepped inside and walked into the living room. Glorfindel looked up from where he was sitting in the chair, his elbows on his knees and his head hanging. Caladel took this in but immediately looked over to the couch where his grandfather was sleeping.

Legolas was lying on the couch, a blanket draped over him. His eyes were closed in exhaustion and - despite the fact that he was sleeping - he was still overly pale. There were slight twitches of movement from him that suggested that his sleep wasn't peaceful, as well as a small frown between his eyebrows.

"Is he going to be all right?" Caladel asked numbly.

Glorfindel was silent for a moment. Caladel could feel his eyes on him but didn't look back. "This isn't the only setback he has had," Glorfindel then answered, "although it's probably the worst so far. I think that he'll pull through after a few days, with our help. …He was worried about you after you left. I had to swear to him that I would make sure that you were alright before he would even go near the couch."

"I'm sorry," Caladel said subdued. He walked over to the chair Glorfindel was sitting in and handed him the cloak that the elf, who had practically become his other grandfather, had draped over him to protect him from the cold. "…I don't think that my presence was helping him… He was worrying about me… trying to pretend that nothing was wrong…"

He walked over to where his grandfather was lying and gently laid Rusca down on his chest, watching as the russet colored, fluffy rabbit woke itself momentarily to slowly stretch out on Legolas' chest until its soft nose was cuddled against the side of his neck. Rusca laid flat in that position, its eyes closing and its long ears flopping down on its back as it dropped back to sleep.

Caladel watched as his grandfather stirred slightly one of his arms crossing over his chest until his hand lay gently against Rusca's soft fur. The frown that had marred his features eased and the small twitches stopped as he dropped back to sleep, exhausted from a restless night and a day of panic.

For a while everything was silent.

"Caladel," Glorfindel then said softly. Caladel finally forced himself to look into his blue eyes, surprised at the tenderness they suddenly showed. "What I said last night… It wasn't true. You do think. Both you and Naruvir. You think very much."

Feeling some of the weight in his heart lift, he gave Glorfindel a teary smile before turning around and walking out of the living room. The journey through the house was eventless and he soon stood before his twin's door. He opened it and walked inside, sitting down on the bed beside his twin.

"Have you slept at all?" Caladel asked.

Naruvir wordlessly shook his head. His eyes weren't red from crying, but there was a lost look in them, mixed with anguish.

"We have work to do, Naru," Caladel whispered, reaching into his pocket.

O

"I thought that this was where I left it," Legolas said softly, his hand moving over the papers on his desk, looking for the list of things that needed to be done for the harvest.

"Maybe someone picked it up in the past few days," Glorfindel suggested in an equally soft voice from where he was leaning against the desk. "Alfirin perhaps?"

Glorfindel hadn't left his side since the incident three days earlier. Staying with him throughout the days as well as the nights, all of which he had spent in Maliel and Elrohir's house. His daughter and friend had refused to let him leave until they were certain that he was all right, giving both of them the perfect opportunity to mother him. Glorfindel had stayed there as well. Through his hazy memories of nights where he had woken constantly from nightmares, he always saw Glorfindel by his side.

He was fully aware of what they had done, small or large, to make him feel at ease once more. It was everything from making sure that they made enough noise for him to be fully aware of where they were in the house so that they didn't startle him, to making sure that the candles didn't die out during the night.

Slowly but steadily, he had been able to push his memory back into place, including most of the terror and panic that came with it. Although it was all muddled, he was able to separate the two memories, letting the shed become the shed instead of a cramped basement room.

He still had nightmares, but finally he seemed to be able to restrict it to the nighttime so that the flashbacks no longer plagued him through the day, not without something setting them off at least…

The worst thing, however, was that he had barely seen Caladel and Naruvir since that first night. The twins seemed to be avoiding him, and even Maliel and Elrohir hadn't seen them for more than a few moments. …There were small signs of their presence, though. Occasionally, he would find that his blanket had been moved in front of the fireplace so that it could heat up while he had been out of the room, or that small treats had been laid out for him, or Rusca had been placed in his arms as he slept…

"It doesn't matter," Legolas sighed. He closed his eyes and rubbed them gently. Although he was improving, he was still suffered from fatigue and occasionally had to lie down during the day. "I remember most of what needs to be done."

They walked out of the house and through the city until they arrived at the storage barn, only to pause in surprise over the activity there. Elves were moving in and out of the barn, carrying tools, rope, or timber. Cirban Gilion's chief woodworker was standing outside the barn, checking various things off a list as another reported to her.

Legolas glanced confused at Glorfindel before moving towards the elf. "Lelvil," he greeted her.

She took a few moments to smack the elf that reported to her over the head and tell him to get a move on before she turned to him. Her brown eyes narrowed slightly as a smug smirk appeared on her lips when she saw him. Her thick black hair was, as usual, completely tied up in intricate braids so that it wouldn't get in her way.

"Finally come to see the progress, eh young man?" Lelvil asked briskly. She was about to say something more when her eyes caught sight of an elf pulling at log. "Oi! You there! Put your back into it! I can haul that log with one of my arms tied behind my back!"

The elf startled and dropped the log. He swirled around and saluted her while shouting, "Yes ma'am!" Afterwards, he dragged the log as if the devil was on his heels.

Legolas managed to suppress an amused snort as she huffed and shook her head before turning back to them, looking like she was praying to the Valar for strength to contain her annoyance.

"What are you working on?" Legolas asked.

"Your orders." she answered shortly, gazing at him with mischievous eyes.

Legolas did let out an amused snort this time before he said, "And those were given to you by?"

"You're a few days too late, young man," Lelvil answered. "Early mornin' three days ago the young rascals were standing on my doorstep asking me if I would begin preparing the barn for storing the harvest. They were 'ere most of yesterday, too. Hauling logs just like the rest of us."

"Caladel and Naruvir?" Legolas whispered, a frown appearing between his eyebrows.

"The very same," Lelvil told him and nodded before yelling at all of the workers to pick up their pace.

Legolas and Glorfindel looked at each other, confusing yielding to a sudden understanding in their expression as they realized just what the twins were trying to do. They left Lelvil and the others to their work and walked to other places where Legolas had noted down that something had to be done, only to find that all of them gave the same answer.

Caladel and Naruvir had already been there.

On their last stop, they walked out of the city and through the woods until they came to the open meadows where the fields were. The sight that met them made them stop for a moment.

Most of the workers were standing to the side, drinking of water cups that were being handed out and watching the field. It only took a glance to understand why. Caladel was alone on the field, cutting through the grain with a scythe. The weapon slashed through the stalks with ferocity and deadly precision, going through row after row of grain.

Legolas watched without averting his eyes as his grandson swung the scythe, sweat making his shirt cling to his upper body and his eyes fixed unwaveringly at the task before him. A sense of pride welled up inside him along with a feeling peace and melancholy, knowing now more than ever that although the twins made mistakes sometimes, they were already growing up.

Without even pausing to see if Glorfindel followed him, Legolas walked past the workers taking a break and into the field. He approached Caladel from behind so as to avoid getting hit by the scythe and placed his hand on his grandson's shoulder.

Caladel immediately stilled in pulling the scythe back for another swing and looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening to see his grandfather standing behind him.

"Enough, Caladel," Legolas said softly, moving closer and wrapping his arms around Caladel from behind. He took a grip on the hands that were gripping the scythe and firmly took the weapon from them, seeing how the handle was slightly stained with blood, no doubt from blisters. "It's enough already…"

Caladel's legs suddenly collapsed underneath him and Legolas lowered them both so that they were kneeling on the ground, knowing without seeing that there were tears flowing down his grandson's cheeks.

Several minutes passed by with Legolas holding Caladel before the twin suddenly choked, "…I'm so sorry,"

"It's all right, Cal," Legolas whispered to him, placing a kiss against his cheek. "You've done enough. Thank you."

Caladel abruptly turned in the hug and wrapped his arms tightly around Legolas as well, burying his face in his shoulder. They sat like that for a while before Legolas asked, "Where is Naruvir?"

Caladel drew back slightly and rubbed the back of his hands over his cheeks before hoarsely answering, "He's making new candles for you… They are almost all used up."

"Let's go find him them, shall we?" Legolas asked softly before rising to his feet. "…We'll all go to our place at the lake so that you can take a swim and I can sleep."

He extended a hand towards Caladel and felt his heart soar as his grandson gave him a small smile before taking it and allowing him to pull him up. The smile was sadder and more pained then normal where it was as bright as the sun, but he knew that it would come back eventually.


	15. Becoming warriors

_A/N: Sorry for the delay. I got a new job where I have to get up every day at four in the morning so all of my creativity was temporarily drained by tiredness. Hopefully, I'll get used to it soon, though! I hope you enjoy the chapter and thanks for all the reviews!_

* * *

 **Chapter fifteen – Becoming warriors**

 _The 32nd year of the Forth Age. Caladel and Naruvir are thirty-four years old._

It was the light gently streaming in from his window that slowly nudged his mind away from his dream and into the waking word. Blinking, Naruvir turned his head towards the window and looked out over the view of the forest under a swift sunrise. From his vantage point, he could see several of the wood elves sitting on the porches of their talan or on the rope bridges that connected some of them, enjoying the sight.

He felt as a smile curved on his lips in response to the beauty of it. He hoped that his grandfather was awake and watching as well, knowing that this was the sort of thing that would cause that rare unburdened and peaceful smile to appear on Legolas' lips.

Caladel probably didn't even know that.

Naruvir snorted at that thought. Lately, after they had started weapons training a few years hence, Caladel had begun getting on his nerves. Infuriating, cheerful, Caladel. It was reaching the level of being intolerable.

For a while his thoughts stayed on his impossible twin, but then he sighed and sat up in the bed. A smile speared on his lips as he saw the book he had been studying the night before, laid out on the foot of his bed with their pages open. His hand ghosted over them, reading a few lines before picking up the one about herbs. As he walked over to the closet, his eyes scanned the drawing of a rare herb used for healing and blindly pulled out his training clothes.

With regret, he closed the book and placed it on a chair before dressing in the outfit. Afterwards, he went into the bathroom and finished what he had to do there, tying his auburn hair up in a ponytail. He then took his weapons in hand and walked through the door that connected his room to Caladel's, shaking his head at the sight of his brother sprawled ungracefully out on the bed.

Knowing by experience that only rough methods would get his brother out of bed, he took hold of the corner of the quilt and yanked it off his brother's body. Caladel gave a pitiful whine of protest but didn't move other than twitching his hand halfheartedly towards the quilt as it slipped by.

"Up, now." Naruvir said unmoved. "If you're late again then Roben will make you do even more laps around the training field."

Caladel mumbled something into his pillow, but Naruvir didn't stay any longer. Instead he walked down to the kitchen, smiling when he saw the food that had already been laid out on the table from his parents' breakfast. His father had gone out on a hunting mission at dawn so he would first be back the next day.

As Naruvir sat down at the table, he could see his mother on the porch through the large windows in the kitchen. She was reading to two elflings, the first to be born in Cirban Gilion and no doubt some of the last elflings to come to life upon Middle Earth. His mother had taken up her old job as teacher and spent a few days a week with the elflings.

His thoughts were cut off as she looked up from the book and smiled upon seeing him, her eyes sparkling as they always did when she was with the elflings.

Returning the smile, he began to prepare some breakfast for himself. There was only one bun left but he presumed that Caladel would get up late despite the fact that he had woken him and would therefore run right past the breakfast table. And if Caladel had wanted it, then perhaps he should contemplate waking on his own.

He filled the bun with things from the table and was just about to begin eating when Caladel bundled down the staircase, still pulling on a shirt and holding his sword and his boots in his hand but with an easy smile on his lips.

"Good morning, little brother!" Caladel pronounced before he jumped on first one foot and then the other as he pulled on his boots while moving towards him. When he straightened Caladel pointed out the window and proclaimed, "Have you seen that?"

Naruvir turned his attention outside but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, when he turned to Caladel to ask what if was, his twin was already on his way out of the room. As he reached the door, Caladel turned and saluted him with a wicked grin, holding a bun in his hand. Outraged, Naruvir snapped his gaze to his plate and saw that Caladel had indeed stolen it from him.

"Thanks Naru!" Caladel called as he hurried out the door.

"Wait! Caladel, you bas-" Naruvir exclaimed angrily, getting halfway up from his chair before he cut himself off, huffing and dumping back into the seat. He racked his hand furiously through his hair and closed his eyes before counting to ten in every language that he knew.

Infuriating brat.

One glance at the clock told him that he had to get a move on, too, so he glanced at the table before picking up a small apple. When he looked to the porch, he saw his mother eyeing him compassionately so he gave her a half-hearted smile and a wave before leaving the house as well.

There were six novices training at the moment, Caladel and him and the four elves in Cirban Gilion who were around the same age as them. The consisted of three boys and one girl. There was the brawn of the group, Taranir, the joker, Hwindir, the untamed woodelf, Rhawon, and lastly, Erelil, who had come with her family from Lothlorien.

Caladel was good friends with Rhawon and Hwindir, all of them sharing boisterous and merry personalities. Oftentimes, Caladel would drag him with them, but he always managed to feel like the odd one out. In the group, other than his twin, he was probably closest with Erelil. Taranir was more of a loner and seemed quite content to be so, he had no issues approaching them if there was a need for it.

As he ran into the training field, he stopped short when seeing that everyone had already gathered and their teacher Roben was already waiting for him. Roben was one of the few remaining members of his grandfather's legendary team and seemed quite content passing down some of Legolas' old training regimes as well as his own crazy inventions. Roben had a wicked sense of humor, but even on him the shadow of past wars was visible. There were warriors from all elven kingdoms in Cirban Gilion, Rivendell, Lothlorien, and Mirkwood, but that particular shadow was most easily found in those of Mirkwood.

Now Roben was looking towards him with an arched eyebrow, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. "Our straggler arrives," Roben exclaimed with a grin, bringing his hands together in applause, as if he had done some great deed.

Naruvir flushed and quickly got in line, giving Roben an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Captain." Naruvir responded dutifully. "It won't happen again."

"It didn't happen at all," Roben said. "For once all of you are five minutes early. You get your free pick of standing in awe of that fact until training officially begins or getting warmed up by running laps so we have more time for dueling."

The youths looked at each other for a moment before shrugging and setting out in a run around the field. Caladel, Rhawon, and Hwindir raced ahead playing tag as they ran, laughing and shouting. Naruvir and Erelil followed behind them and Taranir took up the rear.

"So who do you think he will pair together this time?" Erelil asked worriedly as she ran. She looked back at Taranir before saying, "No offense Taranir, but I don't think my arms will last another day of your heavy blows."

"None taken," Taranir grunted.

"Rhawon is no better," Naruvir chuckled as he ran. "By the Valar he is unpredictable and has some wild moves. I think Yúcalë has been practicing a bit with him."

Yúcalë, Glorfindel, and Helegil, an elleth from Lothlorien, sometimes helped Roben train them, showing them techniques from all the different elven cultures. Cirban Gilion gave room to elves from every elven kingdom and so far they had managed to work together seamlessly. Rivendell had ceased to exist and only a few were left in Lothlorien at the moment, so only the elven kingdom of Mirkwood, Cirban Gilion, and Mithlond still flourished.

"All right that's enough!" Roben called after a while of running. "Team up. Taranir with Rhawon, Erelil with Hwindir, and Caladel with Naruvir."

Naruvir grimaced inwardly, but sighed before walking over to his twin. Caladel grinned at him and he returned the smile halfheartedly. Caladel apparently noticed because he tilted his head in confusion, his eyes asking if there was anything wrong. Naruvir shook his head, not needing his twin to say anything to understand him.

He may be annoyed at Caladel, but that didn't change the fact that he knew his twin better than he knew himself, and understood him just as well. That didn't stop him from being irritating as hell, though.

Even as Naruvir drew his practice sword he already knew that Caladel was going to beat him. Regardless of Caladel's lack of commitment to all other lessons they had, his twin had a natural talent for handling a sword that he could not compete with. Despite the fact that he put in a lot of effort and Caladel didn't, he would still get beaten every time.

"Begin!" Roben called out. The youth's began sparring at his command and he walked up and down their length as he said, "Remember to move your feet, don't just trust brute strength blindly. Hwindir! You're swinging a sword not a club what in earth are trying to do? It doesn't weigh so much that you have to make a pirouette every time you swing it!"

Naruvir grinned between parrying Caladel's thrusts, but soon he was unable to concentrate on anything else but his brother and he was rapidly forced backwards by Caladel's onslaught. His mind consisted of nothing more than thrust and parry for a long time before Caladel's blade suddenly whacked his out of his hands.

For a second, he blinked dumbly at what had happened, but a pointed cough had him snapping his eyes up to find himself looking straight into Roben's mildly disapproving eyes.

"It's good that you're concentrating, Naruvir," he said, an eyebrow arched. "But I've been shouting instructions for you for the past ten minutes and you didn't hear a word of what I said. When in battle you need to be able to concentrate on what you're doing while blocking out distractions _except_ – and there is a very important 'except' here – for when your commanding officer gives you orders or instructions. Hearing these will often mean the difference between life and death for not only yourself but also for those around you."

Naruvir flushed at the reprimand and nodded solemnly to Roben.

"Now, start again." Roben commanded.

"Yes, sir," both Caladel and Naruvir responded. They turned to each other once more and Roben walked slightly away to view the fight. Before they began Caladel gave Naruvir a slightly mocking grin and Naruvir clenched his teeth in response.

It proved more difficult this time as Roben shouted things to him constantly, sometimes it was gibberish, sometimes insults, and sometimes it was advice. He was forced to sort out what was what while still concentrating on Caladel's swordplay. As a result, he lost to Caladel before two minutes had passed.

"It takes some getting used to," Roben said as he picked up his sword and handed it to him. "When Legolas first did this to me I was ready to punch his lights out by the time half an hour had passed by, but it is really useful to learn. Try again."

He lost again.

"Here you go, little brother," Caladel said cockily as he handed him his sword.

They began again.

He lost again, but this time he managed to hang on a little bit longer.

"Better, but there is much room for improvement," Roben commented. "Good form, Caladel."

"Thank you, sir." Caladel replied.

Naruvir bristled inside. There was absolutely no reason to rub it in!

"Now try again," Roben said. "I'll check up on the others." He walked away and was soon doing the same thing to Taranir and Rhawon, Naruvir watched for a moment but had to turn away from the sight of them handling it better than he had done.

Sometimes he wondered what he was even doing there.

"Ahh, don't look so sad," Caladel suddenly chuckled, his voice sarcastic. "Perhaps you'll beat me in a few years, little brother."

A haze covered Naruvir's eyes, as he for the third time that morning heard the term 'little brother' come from his brother's mouth. A mixture of upset and anger had him flying at Caladel before he even realized what had happened. He tackled his twin to the ground, making Caladel grunt underneath him even as he raised his fist to hit him. He was already bringing it down when a hand shot out and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet and away from Caladel.

"That's enough!" Roben's voice barked, and Naruvir suddenly startled out of his haze, his eyes widening with horror as he realized what he had almost done. "Do you understand?"

Naruvir nodded mutely, his eyes still staring wide-eyed at his brother, but Caladel was only looking at him in confusion.

"What did you say?" Roben snapped.

"Yes, sir," Naruvir answered hoarsely. "I understand."

"Good," Roben said. "I will not tolerate senseless brawling in my class. Now I want you to sit the rest of the training out to reflect on your actions, and when training is finished you will clear away the training equipment and run twenty laps around the field. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes, sir," Naruvir winced. "It won't happen again." He bowed his head to Roben and turned blindly towards the entrance to the training fields. Everything was completely silent as he went, sure it wasn't the first time Roben had dealt out punishment for some reason but it was the first time that Naruvir had received one.

When he was past all of his classmates, he finally looked up and nearly stopped short as he saw his grandfather leaning against a tree by the entrance watching him. He felt heat climb to his face in embarrassment and quickly jerked his head to the ground once more. He stopped halfway between the entrance and where the others were training and sat down with his back to his grandfather, hoping that he wouldn't come over.

It seemed that he wasn't even lucky enough for that to happen as only minutes passed before his grandfather sat down beside him.

For a long time, he sat with a knot in his stomach waiting for his grandfather to begin talking, to scold him and tell him how disappointed he was, but Legolas just sat there quietly, watching the others train. Finally, Naruvir couldn't take the oppressive silence anymore.

"Just say it," he snapped hoarsely, his voice cracking slightly.

Legolas turned his attention from the group and looked at him. "Why don't you tell me?" he asked calmly.

Naruvir bristled inwardly in response to those words. His cheeks felt hot and his eyes burned slightly, but he refused to let any tears well up inside them. He wasn't a kid!

"I shouldn't have attacked, Caladel!" he burst out, luckily not load enough for the others to hear him.

"No, you shouldn't have," Legolas responded just as calmly as he had before, his words sincere and truthful.

In that moment, Naruvir felt some of the fight leave him and he snapped his gaze to the ground, biting his lower lip. He took a few deep breaths and forced himself to bury all his feelings of animosity and resentment. He wasn't Caladel. Caladel was the one who always lost control of his emotions…

"So why did you?" Legolas asked softly.

Naruvir slumped together, keeping his eyes firmly on the grass between his shoes, blinking furiously. "Because he…" he started, his voice coming out a little raspy. "…he belittles me… he keeps calling me little brother, and he has no regard for what I feel – he never has – and… and he's just so damn good at this… He's so damned good and he doesn't even try. I work twice as hard as he does and I can't beat him even once… It's not fair."

"It rarely is," Legolas offered gently. Naruvir could hear the smile in his voice. "You and Caladel may look the same, but you are very different. You have different strengths and different weaknesses, just like any other. Caladel is very lively, while you are very reflective, always considering your actions and helping in any way you can, with housework or just taking a moment to listen to us from 'the older generation'" – here Legolas elbowed Naruvir softly – "Perhaps the reason for Caladel's excessive liveliness is the same? Perhaps he is trying to help by making everyone smile?"

Naruvir frowned slightly at that, remembering his parents and others laughing at Caladel antics even as he skived off all the actual work.

Legolas continued after a moment of letting Naruvir ponder what he had said, "It is true that Caladel is a natural swordsman and it does come quite easily to him, but I also remember seeing him several nights when everyone has gone to bed, practicing moves and counters that you have been taught in class."

"You did?" Naruvir asked surprised, his head finally jerking up and his silver eyes locking onto his grandfather's sapphire ones.

"I did," Legolas nodded.

"But…" he spoke confused, "but Caladel hasn't said anything."

"No, I suspect he hasn't," Legolas chuckled.

"But why?"

"Why indeed," Legolas said, looking towards the group. "Tell me, Naru," he began again after a moment, "who is it of the two of you that performs best in your other lessons?"

Naruvir looked out on the group as well, his eyes immediately picking out his twin where he was sparring against Roben. "I do… but Caladel doesn't care about those. He doesn't even try."

"Perhaps he finds it as difficult as you find using a sword," Legolas suggested softly. "Perhaps you are more alike than any of you thought? Both envious of each others gifts and trying to make up for it as well as you can without talking to each other about it. …Have you told Caladel what you think about him calling you 'little brother' or that you find that he sometimes goes too far in his enthusiasm to be noticed?"

Naruvir looked down once more, a troubled expression furrowing his brow. When had he last had a serious conversation with his brother? When had there last been a time when Caladel hadn't just made fun and he hadn't just scoffed annoyed at him?

"Perhaps both of you are too much like your uncle Gimli for your own good then?" Legolas asked with a chuckle as he reached out and tapped his knuckles against Naruvir's head, "Too hard-headed for your own good."

For the first time, a slight smile jerked up the corners of Naruvir's lips and a small snort escaped him. "Nana always says that we've inherited our hard-headedness from you," he said and looked up at Legolas with a twinkle in his silver eyes.

"Impertinent imp," Legolas muttered fondly and flicked Naruvir's forehead. Naruvir jerked away and rubbed his forehead with a short laugh. Smiling, Legolas then reached out to cup the back of Naruvir's head. "You are more like me than you know."

At this Naruvir immediately sobered, despite the comforting weight of his grandfather's hand, his throat began to tighten slightly. "I'm not like you…" he whispered. "I'm rubbish at using a sword… Caladel is more like you than I am, he isn't useless."

"You aren't useless either."

The soft words made Naruvir's throat contract even more and he felt his eyes begin to burn once more.

"Neither you nor Caladel are completely like me, just like you aren't replicas of your parents either," Legolas said gently. "You both have certain things from all of us as well as being completely your own. …And what is this about you not being like me solely because you can't pick up a sword and defeat Sauron himself just like that?"

Naruvir felt his grandfather's hand underneath his chin, lifting his head until he was looking into Legolas' sapphire blue eyes, currently glinting softly with amusement. "I like to think that I have other qualities than being able to kill people. …Besides, maybe I did have natural ability to pick up things quickly when it came to using weapons, but that doesn't mean that I didn't train like crazy to get where I am today… I'm sure that if you just practice you will find that sword fighting isn't so far out of your reach, if – of course – that is what you truly want?"

Naruvir looked down once more, feeling unsure. "Is that…" he began hesitantly. His voice so soft that he wasn't sure his grandfather was able to hear him. "Is that what you want?"

Legolas sat for a long moment without answering but then he said gently, "I love you, Naruvir. You are my grandson no matter what you choose. It doesn't matter if you become a warrior, or a gardener, or a teacher, or a musician, or a woodchopper, or anything else between heaven and earth, it will not make me love you any less than I do now. …I understand if you want to be a warrior, but I will not deny that even the thought of you being in danger makes my heart ache."

Did he want to be a warrior? Naruvir lifted his gaze to where the others were going over drills at Roben's instruction, their blunt swords glinting in the light from the sun as they cut through the air. His eyes immediately locked on his twin and he found that no annoyance welled up inside him anymore at the mere sight of him. For once, he saw the determination and concentration that Caladel had in his eyes as he went through the drills. It was first when there was a pause that he smiled and joked with his friends.

"…I want to…" Naruvir said softly, his eyes still trained on his brother. "I know that it is hard and that a battlefield isn't glorious… but I want to be able to defend this place… I want to do my part just like all of you have already done. And I want to stand by Caladel's side, more than anything. Like an equal."

Naruvir lifted his gaze to his grandfather before continuing. "…But I've also been reading a lot of books about herbs and healing… Caladel, he's likely to be a leader someday, isn't he?"

"He could if he wanted to, just like you can if you want to," Legolas answered.

Naruvir shook his head. "I don't," he said, "but I know that Caladel does. I don't want to be responsible for a whole patrol, be the one who they trust to keep them safe. …But I do find healing interesting. …Can you be both? Healer and warrior?"

"Well, you certainly wouldn't be making it easy for yourself," Legolas answered with a soft smile. "You would have to put in more effort than everyone else if you want to train to be both at the same time, but you can be both. In Mirkwood, dangerous patrols would be accompanied with a healer, one who also knew how to fight."

Naruvir hesitated for a moment, searching his grandfather's face before saying, "…Grandmother was a healer wasn't she?"

Immediately, he saw it, the slight darkening of his grandfather's eyes and the way his hand automatically strayed towards the necklace Naruvir knew that he had around him neck, holding Faneth's engagement ring as well as the amber rock that Gimli had carved.

Nevertheless, his grandfather smiled once more as he responded softly, "Yes, she was. Although, I'm not sure that you can use her as example as she was never on patrol. Your father is a warrior and he has some skill in healing as well, as does Aragorn, but I suppose that a lot of that is mostly because of what they inherited from their ancestors and learned from Elrond."

Naruvir watched as his grandfather stood up and stretched a hand out towards him as he said, "Come. I have someone I would like you to meet."

Naruvir looked towards where Roben was training the others before taking his grandfather's hand and letting him pull him to his feet. He needn't have worried, though, as the issue was addressed immediately.

"Roben!" Legolas called out. The elf looked towards his previous Captain without conscious thought, his eyes sharp and focused, as he had probably done many times in the past. "I'm going to take Naruvir somewhere. We'll come back and clean up and I'll make him do laps."

Roben nodded in response and soon Naruvir found himself following his grandfather as they walked through Cirban Gilion. They didn't talk, but the silence between them was easy and peaceful.

When they reached a small cottage, his grandfather stopped and raised his fist to give the door a few knocks. It wasn't long before the door opened and Naruvir found himself looking at Pengon, another one of his grandfather's old team members. He had met him before, but had never spoken with him at length.

An easy smile appeared on Pengon's lips as he saw who was at his door. "Captain," he greeted his grandfather before turning to him, his hazel eyes looked at him gently. "Hello Naruvir."

"Hello," Naruvir said, wondering why his grandfather had brought him to this particular elf. Both Pengon and him looked to his grandfather for that answer.

"May we come in?" Legolas asked.

Pengon gave a small chuckle before opening the door to them and letting them step inside before closing it after them. Naruvir looked around the kitchen-dinning area, noting the scent of herbs and seeing several drying by the windows as well as an assortment of jars on every countertop and every visible shelf of a cabinet against the far wall. The house was homey and simple, and the elf that went into the kitchen to make was no less so, dressed relaxed with his hair braided loosely in a single tail down his back. He was friend and Naruvir found himself automatically relaxing in his presence.

"So," Pengon said as he sat a mug of tea in front of both of them as they sat at the counter. He took his own mug and casually leaned against the counter where he was standing. "What brings the two of you to my humble abode?"

"Curiosity," Legolas responded casually.

Naruvir was studying how the two of them seemed completely comfortable around each other and was therefore startled when his grandfather suddenly turned his eyes to him and said, "Pengon was the healer of my team back in Mirkwood, as well as being an equal part of the patrol as the rest of us. He once trained your father how to use a sword when Elrohir and Elladan stayed for a few years in Mirkwood. All of us would have probably died a few times over without his skills."

Pengon narrowed his eyes playfully and looked like he was going to argue when Naruvir asked surprised, "You did? You were a healer?"

Pengon turned to him with a chuckle, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Yes, I was and still am. In the beginning I was just a healer, but I wanted to help on the battlefields so Legolas and his team took me on and trained me. It was a bit untraditional at the time and I was the first healer in Mirkwood to be allowed to actively serve on the battlefield. Are you interested in becoming a healer, Naruvir?"

Naruvir nodded in response, albeit a little hesitantly. "I think so," he answered, "but I haven't really studied healing. Only read books about herbs and such."

"Well, it's not a bad place to start," Pengon said with a smile. "Tell you what. How about you swing by here after training a couple of days a week and I can tell you a bit about it? I can teach you about herbs and you can help me mix medicine from them. That way you can try it out before committing to an apprenticeship with a healer."

Naruvir felt his eyes widen slightly as he listened to Pengon's offer, his lips parting. Just like that, this elf was offering him so much. He couldn't remember ever having exchanged anything more than pleasantries with Pengon, but still the elf was willing to spend a lot of his time on something he wasn't even sure was a path he was going to follow.

"You would do that?" Naruvir asked surprised.

Pengon cocked his head slightly to the side and regarded him with a gentle gaze. "It is of no consequence to me," Pengon replied. "If you are interested in healing then it will be my pleasure to teach you. Besides, even if you don't decide to officially become a healer, then any knowledge of herbs will still help you when you go on patrol."

Pengon took a step and leaned forward as he rested his elbows on the counter. He threw a look at Legolas before turning back to him. "…Your grandfather believed in me and helped me even when I had nothing but a desire to do more… Why should I do any different? You are bright, Naruvir. No matter what you decide, I'm sure that you will do well."

The rest of the time at Pengon's cottage was spent with deciding when the lessons were going to take place and what books Naruvir should read to gain a wider understanding of healing. Soon came the time when Legolas said that they had to leave to make it back for the time the lesson ended.

Naruvir was well on his way out of the door after saying goodbye and thank you, but as he looked back he saw that his grandfather and Pengon had moved closer, speaking softly to each other. There was a familiarity and an easiness with which they interacted with each other that bespoke of the centuries they had known each other.

Although Naruvir couldn't hear their short conversation from where he stood, he could see how Pengon and his grandfather's expressions matched each other. Just for a brief moment, both solemnness and tiredness shone in their eyes, brown and blue, then they reached forward and grasped each others forearms, moving forward into a fleeting embrace before his grandfather turned and walked towards him. Placing his hand on his back, his grandfather guided him through the door and into the open.

They made it back to the training field just as the other novices were seen walking back towards the city. Roben was still there and he quickly gave him another lecture before sending him out onto the track.

"Remember!" Roben called to him sternly. "Twenty laps and then you can clean up! I don't want to catch you fighting again!"

Naruvir set out on the first lap, using the steady rhythm of his feet hitting the grass and his breathing to sort out his thoughts and calm himself down completely. He thought about everything his grandfather had said as well as what he had been offered by Pengon. After the meeting, he found that his wish to learn healing even as he trained to become a warrior had become even stronger.

As he ran this became as the more clear, just as the need to talk things out with his twin grew inside his heart. He looked over towards where he had left his grandfather and saw him and Roben talking to each other. Hopefully it wasn't about him… He couldn't bear the thought of his grandfather hearing anything bad about him and released a sigh of relief when Roben walked off towards Pengon's cottage.

Turning his full attention back to running, he quickly finished the rest of the laps. When he slowed to a stop beside his grandfather, his breathing was short and he had to use his sleeve to wipe the sweat off his brow. He didn't stop though, only moved to the scattered equipment and began moving it back into the weapons shed.

Several minutes of hauling were broken off, however, as the pommel of a sword appeared in his line of vision. He looked up and saw his grandfather holding out the sword towards him. Confused, he straightened and took hold of the hilt, letting the weight settle into his hand.

"What do you…?"

His voice faded to nothing as he watched his grandfather take a step towards a sword that had been stuck into the ground. Shock filled him as he hesitantly reached out and curled his fingers around the grip, drawing it effortlessly out of the ground.

Never before had he seen his grandfather take up a weapon with the intent to use it…

Never.

His heart thudded in his chest at the sight and he felt the urge to throw his own sword down just so that Legolas didn't have to so much as touch one. Although the movement seemed effortless and his grandfather's expression seemed peaceful enough, he could just feel how much it took out of him, how much it pained him.

This was the only thing that kept him from dropping his own sword and ripping his grandfather's away; the fact that he knew he was straining himself to do this, for no other reason than the fact that his grandson was having difficulties. …The least he could do in return was to honor his choice.

Naruvir clenched his sweaty hands around the sword and lifted the point until it was parallel to his grandfather's.

"Relax, Naru," Legolas said with a small smile upon his lips, looking at his grandson with a mixture of amusement and tenderness. "You aren't going to make me lose much ground if your sword is shaking like a tree in an autumn wind. Control your breathing. Calm yourself down. …Focus on what sounds you hear around you and on the opponent before you, forget all of your aches and pains."

Naruvir closed his eyes as he listened to his grandfather's soothing voice, breathing steadily in and out. It was difficult, what he was asking of him, but nevertheless Naruvir felt his body slowly adapting to the rules that had been set forth. The sound of the leaves rustling in the wind and both his grandfather's and his own breathing was suddenly clearer.

As he felt his hands stop shaking, he opened his eyes once more. His grey eyes found his grandfather's only to find him smiling approvingly to him.

"Good." Legolas said. "Now fighting with a sword is a lot about predicting where your opponent is going to strike next, looking for small indicators that give their next move away. For example, if my foot inches this way," Legolas demonstrated, "then it is like that my attack will come from this side."

Legolas let the sword swing through the air at Naruvir, his maneuver was slower than it would normally be but it didn't lose any of its graze or elegance as the sword arched effortlessly through the air. Naruvir brought his own sword up to parry the attack. Their swords met with a sharp clang.

"Exactly," Legolas commented. "There are other indicators as well. Perhaps ones eyes would flick towards the place one intended to strike before doing so. Unintentionally." Legolas flicked his gaze towards Naruvir's left hip before instantly bringing his sword around his grandson and striking towards it, taking a few steps forward so Naruvir was forced to retreat slightly. Naruvir brought his sword down and parried the attack.

"Or intentionally," Legolas remarked as he flicked his eyes towards Naruvir's right shoulder before using the moment that Naruvir brought his sword up in that direction to tap his left shoulder lightly with the blunt edge of the sword.

Naruvir blinked owlishly at him in surprise before pouting at his grandfather. "How is that supposed to help then?"

"By measuring the level of experience your opponent has," Legolas answered, beginning a slow attack against Naruvir even as he continued to speak. "Experienced swordsmen, very experienced, won't give anything away unless they are pressed and make a mistake. Less experienced, you can sometimes gauge their intent by the length of which they look at the place they are going to strike, do their eyes dart away immediately or does their gaze linger pointedly as if they are just begging you to be fooled by their tricks."

As Legolas said this, he twirled his sword around Naruvir's and jerked it out of his grandson's hands. Naruvir watched impassively as his grandfather walked over and took up the sword before handing it to him once more.

"Again." Legolas pronounced calmly.

They went at it again and again, Legolas giving him pointers and Naruvir desperately trying to hold out for as long as possible. He had no illusions about winning and for once that was completely all right with him, he had no desire beat his grandfather and already knew that it was impossible for him to do so. Legolas was holding back and varying the predictability of his movements effortlessly.

Naruvir felt his focus slowly tuning in on the small indicators and everything else stepping to the background. Oftentimes, his grandfather would stop him and make him close his eyes like he had done in the beginning, bringing his focus back to the sounds that were all around him as well.

This was why he suddenly picked up on someone nearing them. One glance at his grandfather told him that Legolas was already aware of the fact and was waiting for him to discover it on his own. The inattention, however, made him unable to react as a sword twirled around his and ripped it from his hand once more.

Naruvir scowled good-naturedly at his grandfather, before turning towards the sound of someone approaching. It was Caladel.

His twin was staring astounded at the sight of a sword in their grandfather's hand, but as both of their attentions turned to him, Caladel quickly covered it with a grin and said, "Here you both are, Nana was wondering what was holding you up. Does this mean that I get lessons from you as well?"

Legolas snorted in amusement and flipped the sword in his hand before holding it out towards Caladel, his eyes twinkling. "If there is ever a time when you have difficulty with something, I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to help you. Perhaps I can offer you assistance with poetry next week?"

Caladel barked out a laugh in return as he stepped up to him and took hold of the hilt, pulling it from his grandfather's hand. Immediately, Naruvir saw the way Legolas' body – which he hadn't even noticed was tense – slumped slightly together, almost unperceivably. One glance shared with his twin made him aware of the fact that he wasn't the only one who had seen it.

"Hey little brother," Caladel grinned after a second, as if nothing had happened. "Should I be worried that you're going to spring me?"

Naruvir felt heat flood into his cheeks and almost felt the urge to give him exactly what he was asking for. Just as he was about to snap something back, a hand landed on his shoulder and he jerked his head up. His eyes locked with his grandfather's.

"Remember what we talked about," Legolas said calmly. "Explain it to him so that he understands and perhaps he will tell you what is bothering him as well."

He squeezed his shoulder once before stepping back, eyeing both of them. "I'll leave the two of you to talk while you clean up the rest of this equipment. …Naruvir perhaps it would be good training for you if you spend a few hours a week meditating in the forest, learning to hear, and yet not hear, everything. I'll tell your mother that you will be late for dinner."

Without waiting for a response, their grandfather gave them a wave before wandering back towards the city. They looked after him for a moment before turning to each other, neither of them saying anything, just looking into each other's identical eyes.

"I'm sorry," Naruvir finally said after a long moment.

Naruvir was surprised to see his brother actually relaxing after those words, as if what had happened had worried him greatly.

"What happened, Naru?" Caladel asked.

And so Naruvir explained everything, both of them sitting down in the grass and placing all of their cards on the table. In the process of finding that they both had some part to play in what had been driving them apart, the slowly felt the bond between them strengthening once more until they were laughing softly together and talking about what to do in the future.


	16. A warrior's blood

_A/N: Hello everyone. As you have probably noticed by now, this story is taking me a bit longer to write than the ones before it. For this I can only apologize and ask that you have patience with your old writer here. No matter how long it is going to take there is no chance in hell that I won't stay with this story until the very end so you don't have to worry about that!_

 _Thank you, all of you, for your tremendous support. Your impatience, your anger, your tears, your joy, and every emotion that you have ever given me through reviews or other mediums, only shows me that this story means something to you, and I could not have been more blessed with all of you readers I have gathered throughout the years._

 _So here we are again, almost three years into this series, with another chapter:_

* * *

 **Chapter sixteen – A warrior's blood**

 _The 48th year of the Forth Age. Caladel and Naruvir are fifty years old._

Legolas and Elrohir looked up from where they were sitting on the couch as the door to the living room opened. Proud smiles appeared on both of their lips as first Caladel and then Naruvir stepped inside. The twins had reached their majority some weeks past, standing tall and strong beside each other. Now came the final ceremony.

The twins were both wearing their hair bound up with a leather band, baring their silver eyes, which shone with both excitement and determination. They had nothing on their upper body, only wearing simple breeches. Years of sword training had left its mark and both twins were as muscular as their father, slightly more than normal elves due to the small amount of mannish blood in their veins.

"Are you both ready?" Elrohir asked softly, his eyes gleaming as he looked at them. Nevertheless, he managed to stop himself from getting up and squeezing them tightly. This was not a day for hugs and tears.

"We are ready, Ada," Naruvir answered, his eyes finding his twin's and his lips lifting in a small smile.

"Aye, we are," Caladel agreed, a wide grin spreading out upon his lips.

Today the twins would finally become warriors, gain the right to join patrols as equal members of the group. Caladel and Naruvir had both chosen to undergo the wood elven ceremony for this passage, as had the only wood elf from their training group, Rhawon.

The others from their group had undergone their own rites during the past week, each choosing the tradition of their own nation to complete it. Caladel, Naruvir, and Rhawon were last because the wood elven ritual took more time than the others, testing if the new warriors could survive on their own in the wilderness for a month before it was complete.

"Then come," Legolas said with a smile, gesturing for them to come closer even as he stood up. As tradition, old warriors of the soon to be warriors' choosing took care of getting them ready for the ritual. Caladel and Naruvir had asked both of them to be the ones to help them. Elrohir had never witnessed the rite before, but Legolas remembered it from his own youth, having undergone it himself.

The twins walked over to them and sat down beside each other on the couch, facing their father and grandfather. Elrohir and Legolas both reached out to give their shoulders a squeeze before walking over to the cupboard and taking the two bowls that stood on its surface. Both held paint made from flowers, plants, clay, and other things found in nature, one green and one blue. Legolas took the green paint and moved over to Naruvir, kneeling before him just as Elrohir did the same in front of Caladel, holding the blue paint.

"Some may think that the wood elves are too old fashioned, maybe even savage," Legolas said softly a smile appearing on his lips. "Perhaps those who think that may even somewhat be right, who knows? The wood elves believe in the power of nature and in the power of blood above anything else. They believe in simplicity, and faith, and truth, and that no one person is greater than another. That is why, when someone takes on these colors, they are born once more, joining all the ancestors and elves who have once made the same sacred vow."

Legolas dipped two of his fingers into the green paint and ran them from the middle of Naruvir's forehead, down his temple and to his cheek in one graceful stroke before dipping them once more, slowly creating a flowing pattern. "Green for a healer, promising that to the best of his abilities that he will aid those one his path, whether they be friend or foe."

After a moment, Elrohir continued off where Legolas had left off, "And blue of a warrior who swears to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to strike down on enemies but show mercy to those who deserve it."

He finished painting Caladel's face and moved on to his hands, taking them one after the other and drawing a blue spiral upon their surfaces, surrounded by blue dots. Afterwards he handed the blue paint to Legolas who then drew thinner blue strokes along the lines of green he had already drawn, showing the younger twin's status as both healer and warrior.

When they were done the twins turned to each other and chuckled at the sight of their paint-covered faces and hands, nonetheless glowing with pride.

Their attention was drawn back when their father suddenly stood up and walked to the cupboard on the other side of the room, opening one of the doors and drawing out a long, cloth covered pack. As he walked back, he said, "As tradition it is my duty, a father's duty, to equip his sons or daughters with the tools necessary to survive in this world."

He placed the package on the table and moved the cloth aside to show the two swords underneath, sheathed in scabbards made from beautiful types of wood and gold finishes, one just slightly darker than the other so that they could be told apart. The hilts were made elegantly from different shades of brown leather, the hilt darker than the scabbard with a thin line of gold swirling around it.

The pommels of the swords were shaped very much like raindrops, starting from hilt as the shape of a hexagon and slowly rounding as it grew wider. The cross guard was slim and slightly curved.

Elrohir took hold of one of the swords and drew it from its sheath, showing the elegant mithril blade, weightless and strong as dragon scale. The blade was adorned with golden details in which their names stood in Quenya. The sword that Elrohir had picked up first showed the name Caladel Elrohirion.

"As my acknowledgement of the fact that you have both come of age," Elrohir said as he presented the sword to his eldest son. Caladel took the hilt with widened eyes that never left his father's. Elrohir smiled melancholically to him, showing how difficult this process was, …the process of letting his sons go.

He then turned to the table once more and took up the second sword, turning to Naruvir as he said, "And the fact that I can relinquish my role as your protector." Naruvir reached out and took the hilt, gazing at the blade before raising his eyes to his father again. Elrohir gave a small smirk as he added, "Somewhat at least." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against their hair. "You will always be my sons, and I will never stop trying to keep you safe… even though I know that you may not always need me to."

Both Caladel and Naruvir leaned forward and wrapped their arms tightly around their father, just as he drew them just as tightly against his chest. Legolas watched with a smile on his lips, before turning his gaze to the side of the sofa, placing his hand on the edge of the cloth-covered package that he had placed there before the twins arrived. His chest felt tight, knowing what was underneath the cloth and what he intended to do with it…

As Caladel and Naruvir drew back from Elrohir, he took hold of the package. It clinked slightly and the others' attentions were suddenly turned to him. His lips lifted in a halfhearted smile as he pulled the package away from the couch, smoothing the cloth off of the twin blades underneath; his twin long knives.

They were sheathed in their pale, wooden scabbards, the ivory hits rising up with the thin line of Mithril spiraling around and the crest of Mirkwood engraved in the pommel. Legolas drew the one closest to him, his hand immediately feeling at home around the hilt he had held for millennia. The fine Mithril blade was drawn from the scabbard with a harmonious sound, showing the elven script that ran down its length in silvery-white.

 _Silmëstil_ _·_ _weapons of Legolas Thranduilion_.

"They are not something that I would force you to take with you, I can understand if they carry too much weight for you to feel like you can use them. They have seen a lot of battle already, war as well, and they have shed their fill of blood…" Legolas gazed upon the blade, lost in thought as he spoke. " _Starlight hopes_ … they were built upon the wish of building a lighter world once more, of fighting back the darkness. I'm sure that they will have nothing against being used to defend the peace they've fought so hard for, if you decide that you want to wield them."

Caladel and Naruvir's mouths hung slightly open in surprise as Legolas looked up and met their eyes, drawing away from his memories. The twins swallowed nervously before turning to gaze at each other. For a second it seemed as though they were communicating with each other and then both of them relaxed.

Naruvir turned to his grandfather and took the knife he held out, gazing at it reverently. "We are honoured, more than honoured that you would give them to us…" He said softly, looking with his silver eyes upon his grandfather. "But we cannot take them…" He briefly looked at Caladel before turning back. "It doesn't feel right to take them from you… to use them even knowing that you aren't the one who has won their allegiance a hundred times over. They belong to you granddad, and they deserve to enjoy the peace they have won, just like you."

Naruvir handed the knife back to his grandfather, knowing that it felt wrong in his hand. He also noticed that, consciously or not, his grandfather relaxed the moment it was back in his hand, and knew that they had made the right decision.

Legolas smiled softly to them. "I understand." Then he sheathed the blade once more and put them aside.

Elrohir had watched silently a soft smile upon his lips. Now he turned to his sons and said, "it's time."

They walked out of the house and through Cirban Gilion until they reached the clearing by the lake were the ceremony would take place. Rhawon was already there, standing by the head of the gathering with Pengon, Roben, and Yúcalë, their trainers. Many of the elves from Cirban Gilion had gathered in the clearing, family, friends, mentors, and wood elves to bear witness of the vows that would be taken, all sitting beside each other in the grass.

Legolas and Elrohir squeezed the twins' shoulders one last time before moving over to where Elladan, Glorfindel and Maliel were sitting. The twins walked up to Rhawon and their trainers, returning the smirk that Rhawon gave them as they eyed each other's painted faces. All three of them were wearing nothing but their boots, breeches and weapons, their hair tied up.

The gathering suddenly began humming an ancient melody as a final person walked up the aisle that had been made in the middle: Alfirin. The twins had asked their 'extra grandfather' to carry out the ceremony. Rhawon had readily agreed as well; amongst wood elves Alfirin held a lot of respect.

Some amongst the audience had brought instruments and the sound of a harp, a drum, and a flute accompanied the haunting melody that spun through the air. Naruvir, Caladel, and Rhawon glanced at each other in anticipation one last time before they all knelt down in the grass, Alfirin coming to stand before them.

The humming rose in strength as Alfirin placed a shallow wooden bowl on the grass before the young warriors and drew a plain, wooden-handled knife from his belt. It stopped abruptly, though, as Alfirin turned the knife in hand and without hesitation cut shallowly into his left palm. Caladel and Naruvir watched as Alfirin held his hand over the bowl, hearing the soft drips of blood hitting the wood in the silence that suddenly filled the clearing. Even the wind seemed to had quieted completely…

"Sercë o Mathar, Mathar o Sercë," Alfirin said softly in Nandorin, his voice melodic. "Hlarvandalma." [Blood of Warrior, Warrior of Blood. Hear our oath.]

The audience took up the chant, slowly transforming into an ancient song, and suddenly it felt like energies swirled around them, making them breathless. The trees seemed to sway with the melody, their silver and green leaves rustling melodically. It seemed almost like magic as the cut Alfirin had made, sealed itself and healed until there was only a thin white line left.

Naruvir and Caladel's breaths caught in their throats, feeling like the energies around them filled them up completely, and making them feel giddy and slightly disorientated. A strange urge to burst out laughing or break out into a run, to leap like the wind over the grass, was narrowly suppressed.

They almost didn't register it as Alfirin began talking once more, but forced their minds to concentrate on the words being said. Beside them, Rhawon also seemed to be slightly intoxicated by what was happening.

Alfirin sent a feral smile towards the three dazed youths before turning to their teachers, Pengon, Roben, and Yúcalë. Pengon being there for Naruvir, Roben being there for Caladel, and Yúcalë for Rhawon, although all of them had also trained with the others, especially Roben who had drilled all of them through sword training from the very beginning.

"Will you swear to their readiness to become warriors?" Alfirin said asked the three over the sound of the singing audience and the rustling trees. "Are they ready to serve? Ready to fight? Ready to defend our people, our children, our lands? Are they ready to make the distinction between good and evil?"

"I'm ready to swear to their readiness," Roben answered immediately, stepping forward and accepting the knife from Alfirin. He smiled briefly at the three youths before he ran the knife over the palm of his hand, letting the blood drop into the bowl as well. The energy around them seemed to intensify as it hit the wood and mixed with Alfirin's.

"Sercë o Mathar," he repeated before he placed his right palm into the blood and walked first to Caladel, pressing a bloody handprint against his chest before doing the same to Naruvir and Pengon. "Mathar o Sercë," he then said as he smiled to them, seeing the way their breath caught as his hand pressed against their chest. "Hlarvandalma." [Blood of Warrior, Warrior of Blood. Hear our oath.]

Yúcalë stepped up next, saying the words of the ritual as he added his own blood oath to those before him and his palm to the chest of the three youths. Pengon did the same after him, repeating the words and adding his handprint to the two other trainers before him. Their wounds healed quickly, just like Alfirin's had.

"Are there anyone else here, who will testify to their readiness?" Alfirin then asked the audience. "Who will trust them with their life? Who will trust them to have their backs? Who will fight beside them?"

"I will." Elrohir stood up from where he was sitting beside Legolas. From the corner of his eye, he saw his twins jerking their heads around to look at him, but did not return their gaze, keeping his eyes fixed on Alfirin as he walked through the crowd. "I trust their readiness, I trust them with my life, with my back, and I would be honoured to fight beside them at any time."

With those words he took the knife and cut open his palm, mixing his blood with Alfirin, Roben, Pengon, and Yúcalë's and coating his hand in it. "Sercë o Mathar," he said strongly, his gaze that of a fellow warrior as he turned to his son and their friend, kneeling first before Rhawon and pressing his hand against his chest, feeling how the bond between them strengthened with his vow.

Afterwards, he moved to his sons and added his vote of confidence to those already made as he pressed a handprint against their strong chests. "Mathar o Sercë. Hlarvandalma."

One by one, the warriors in the audience stood and gave their blood, their oath, and their trust to the new, young warriors, repeating the words of the old ritual, passed down from father to son for generations. With these words they declared the three to be of equal standing with them, declared that they would welcome them as part of their group and teach them everything they could, everything they would need.

By the end of it, the three young warriors' chests had been covered in bloody handprints, their bodies quivering with the energy from their peers. The song sung by the audience had continued to rise through the air, born by the sound of drum, flute, and harp.

Suddenly everything stopped even as Legolas rose to his feet. The silence followed in his wake as he walked noiselessly up the aisle. As he stopped before the wooden bowl, his raised his eyes to Alfirin. His old minder's expression looked tight and full of warning, but nevertheless he solemnly handed the knife over to him. "Sercë o Mathar," Legolas said softly, his voice carrying effortlessly through the crowd nonetheless, holding both strength and calmness. He pressed the blade against the skin of his palm and cut through, not even giving the merest flinch.

He held his hand over the bowl and watched as the first drop fell from it, splashing onto the blood already in the wooden bowl. Immediately, it seemed as though a roar went through the forest, the trees reacting violently to his blood, their murmuring and chanting reaching new levels even as they groaned and moaned as they wavered from side to side.

More drops fell into the bowl, only causing the forest to liven even more. A feral grin lifted on Legolas' lips as he felt the trees start to reach out towards him, knowing that with his blood creating an oath between him, his grandsons and Rhawon, the trees would look out for the three youths.

He watched as the cut healed itself before he dipped his hand into the red liquid, closing his eyes for a second and turning away as his nightmares and his memories and his horrors flashed before his eyes. Without looking, he drew his hand from the bowl and walked over to Caladel, dropping to his knee before him.

"Mathar o Sercë," he continued and then pressed his hand against Caladel's chest. Immediately, his grandson gasped and a jolt went through his body. His silver eyes widened and jerked towards the forest.

Legolas stood up and then kneeled before Naruvir, whose eyes had been watching his brother's reaction before turning to him. His youngest grandson gave him a tight nod. Legolas pressed his hand against Naruvir's chest as well, feeling as the same jolt went through him, his heart rate picking up and his eyes shooting towards the forest.

Rhawon had the same reaction as the twins, if not even more pronounced, being full-blooded wood-elf. He could see the youth wanting more than to sprint into the woods, howling at the top of his lungs, and swing through the trees. Therefore, he kept his hand on Rhawon's shoulder for a brief moment just until he was sure the wood elf would stay were he was for a minute longer.

"Hlarvandalma," Legolas finished, a note of finality in his voice.

"The woods have heard our oaths," Alfirin then said. "They will se for themselves now if you are ready for the trust we place in you. Until the next moon you will be in their keeping, taking nothing but the weapons you have been given, and when we meet again you will stand in your rightful place beside us. Now go!"

Immediately, the three young warriors leapt up and sprinted with each other towards the woods. The pent up energy that had been holding from all of the warriors, who had placed their faith in them, was something that they were finally allowed to spend. There was only one goal in their mind after the ritual and that was the trees, the wilderness, and the life of a warrior.

O

 _The 58th year of the Forth Age. Ten years later._

Legolas laid down on his side, his head on the soft pillows, and reached down to pull the covers up over his shoulders, snuggling into the soft mattress. A soft wind blew over the platform where his bed was placed, moving through the silver and green leaves of the great tree that grew in the middle of his home and causing them to rustle gently.

 _The night is peaceful, fledgling._ The great tree said in his mind, her voice like that of an old grandmother. _I hope that tonight will be the night where you sleep restfully once more._

"I do not think such a night will come," Legolas whispered tiredly, his eyes closed. "Your presence soothes me, but still the nightmares will not release the hold they have on me."

 _Time passes more quickly for your kind then mine._ The tree responded in her ancient voice. _A storm may pass over any tree, but those with the strongest and deepest roots will always remain standing to see the sun shine from behind the clouds once more. One day, young fledgling, you will find the sun, too, and then you will sleep peacefully._

A drowsy smile lifted the corners of his lips as the words echoed inside his head, sounding like an odd mixture of a scold and an encouragement. "You are too good to me…" He reached out and patted the white bark of the trunk behind his pillows.

The tree hummed in response, rustling her leaves in contentment, almost like a purring cat. _It is my pleasure,_ she hummed. S _omeone has to look out for you, since you…_

Her voice slowly faded to nothing just as her leaves grew completely still. His sapphire blue eyes fluttered open in response, already a sinking feeling in his stomach. He was just about to ask what was wrong when he felt it, too. The trees further to the north were in a state of agitation, almost like a wave coming from tree to tree down towards the city.

Caladel and Naruvir were leading a routine patrol in the north.

Even as he jumped up from the bed, flinging the covers so roughly aside that they flew off the platform, the ancient tree suddenly gave a roar of fury in his head. _Those axe-wielding, tree-breaking fiends are daring to attack our saplings!_

Legolas felt faint, knowing that she always called Caladel and Naruvir her saplings. Rushing to the chest at the foot of his bed, he snapped it open and ripped out the top layers of clothing, not even looking to see where they landed. He removed everything down to a green blanket, which he then pealed aside. Tucked away in the bottom of the chest was his fighting gear, his old uniform, armor, vambrace, and other objects.

Knowing that speed was of the essence, he didn't bother to take on anything other than pulling his leather jerkin over his sleeping tunic and his leather vambraces on his forearms, not even bothering to fasten anything in his rush. He then let out a sharp whistle before hurrying to the bed and pulling on his leather boots.

"Orcs or humans?" he asked quickly as he jumped down from the platform, landing halfway down on another branch before dropping all the way to the ground.

 _Orcs!_ The tree spat, disgust and hatred clear in her ancient voice. He could feel the other trees shaking themselves awake and responding to her strong feelings, sharing them and portraying them until the whole forest was shaking with outrage and fear for the 'saplings'.

Running to the weapons cabinet, he flung open the door and donned his weapons in a manner of seconds, old routines and instincts taking over as he strapped the quiver and twin knives to his back, his sword belt around his waist, a dagger to his forearm as well as dropping one into a holster in his boot. Finally, he grabbed his bow and flipped it onto his back as well without even thinking about it.

The sound of a horse galloping towards his home had him running towards the door, and he threw it open just in time to see his grey and black roan, Tinco, galloping breakneck towards the entrance to his house, called upon by his whistle, just like old times. He ran out and met Tinco just as he swung past the door and took hold of his neck, using the momentum to vault himself onto Tinco's back with his roan ever loosing speed.

Tinco was wearing neither saddle nor bridle, and Legolas knew that he must have had to kick open the gate to his stall as well the door of the barn to respond to his whistle. Patting Tinco's back in appreciation, he effortlessly steered the horse out of the settlement and on the path northwards. Some wood elves had already begun to sound the alarm, no doubt having been woken to the panic of the trees, but he knew that even though he had a duty to his settlement he couldn't wait even a second to ride out to his grandsons.

He would keep them safe. No matter what.

A movement made his look up and he saw Alfirin vaulting himself through the trees towards the settlement. When his old minder saw him, he immediately swung down to the forest floor.

"Legolas!" he cried out to him. "Legolas wait! Just wait ten minutes and I will have assembled a team to ride out!"

Tinco raced right past him, not being given any command to slow down by his master. As he continued to ride, Legolas turned his head back and yelled, "Gather a team and follow!" Then he was speeding out of sight at a breakneck speed. Vaguely, he heard Alfirin curse behind him and scramble back into a tree.

Even as he rode, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the borders of his city. When he had first arrived, he had infused the water channels that ran around the border of his city with his power. This he now strengthened, pouring more of his energy into the water, almost like he was creating something akin to the barrier that had been around the halls of his father's. It would keep the city safe.

Naruvir and Caladel's patrol was no more than an hours ride from the borders and from what he could gather from the trees there was a large party of orcs approaching them from the north, which meant that they were too close to the city for comfort.

It felt like hours had passed when he finally heard the sounds of battle in the distance, but truthfully he must have cut at least half an hour from his ride because of the speed at which he was going. Reaching up, he drew his bow from his back and nocked an arrow to it just as Tinco broke through a line of trees and into a battlefield.

The clearing was in frenzy. Orcs and elves in one big cluster, fighting and shouting, orders and cries of pain or victory. Guttural snarls mixing with screams. His mind was completely on autopilot, barely registering the sounds of battle and the small of blood and gore in the air as he released his arrow in the nearest orc. No more than half a second passed before the bow was nocked again and he let another arrow fly, drawing a grunt of pain and the sound of a second orc body hitting the ground.

His arrows flew like rain into the fray as he skirted around the edges on Tinco, his eyes flickering between looking for targets and searching for his two grandsons. Dimly, he could hear Caladel shouting orders to his patrolmen, having been given elevated to Captain of this particular patrol eight years after having become a warrior by surviving a month in the wilderness with his brother and friend. He had risen to the responsibility and become a great Captain, drawing his men's loyalty with his charisma and his steadfastness.

Naruvir was in his brother's patrol as well, acting as both healer and warrior. Showing that although their differences had pulled them away from each other briefly as they went through their adolescence, it pulled them just as strongly together afterwards. Caladel relied on Naruvir, just as Naruvir relied on Caladel. They complimented each other just as Elrohir complimented Elladan.

Legolas reached back to his quiver and drew his last arrow from it, quickly nocking it on the string and pulling it taught, not even thinking about the fact that it had been years since he had last used the weapon. Every movement, every action, and every aim was ingrained his fingers, hands, and mind.

The arrow thwacked into the forehead of an orc aiming a crossbow towards him. The orc toppled over, dead. Without pausing, Legolas flipped his bow onto his back once more and drew his twin knives in the same movement. An orc was rushing towards him and he jumped off Tinco to meet the beast's first strike, the force of metal striking metal vibrating up his arms.

An elf cried out in pain not far from him, one that had come from Lothlorien before moving to Cirban Gilion. The orc that had struck him gave a guttural laugh, taunting the elf even as he moved to strike him once more. Legolas rammed his shoulder against the orc that he was fighting and trust out his arm to block the scimitar that hacked downward towards the wounded soldier even as he brought his other knife around and hacked it into the neck of the orc he was fighting.

Afterwards, he focused his attention to the orc that had wounded the warrior, pushing him back and away from the Lothlorien elf, even as the elf struggled to find his feet once more. He found himself moving deeper into the fray as he fought the orc, battles all around him. Weapons grinding against each other, mixing with cries, screams, and snarls, all the while he struggled to get stock of the situation.

Caladel's patrol was twenty strong. He flicked his knives through the air and stabbed the orc he was fighting in the stomach and the shoulder, before flinging him away with a yank of his knives. From what he could see a group of just short of sixty orcs had attacked them. They were outnumbered.

Two orcs were bearing down on an already wounded elf and Legolas threw himself at the back of one of them, trapping it against his chest with his arm while slitting its throat with the other knife. In this position, he gained a short view of his eldest grandson. Caladel was fighting off two orcs at the same time while shouting for two other to get into the trees and cover them with their bow. For a short second their eyes locked and he saw Caladel's eyes widen before the opening between was blocked by the second orc the elf had been fighting.

Legolas tossed aside the orc that he had killed and turned to face the other, ducking under his blade while spinning around and then stabbing his knife in between the orc's shoulder blades, kicking the back of its knees to force it down before stabbing his other knife through its heart.

He was beginning to garner the orcs' attention. Four orcs flew at him from all sides, making him quickly shift from his twin blades to his sword, to keep them at a longer range. He swirled, flew, and twirled, almost like water in motion as he fought the four orcs, powerful and effortless.

The team that Alfirin had no doubt assembled wouldn't reach them in time, it was both slower and had taken longer to prepare than he had. Even as he slew the last of the orcs and others began to take their place, he felt a familiar presence behind him, placing their back against his.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Caladel's voice asked as he fought off an orc at his back obviously having fought his way to him while he had been preoccupied. Caladel's voice was somewhat strained but still held a glint of grim humor.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Legolas grunted as he pushed the orc back that was in front of him. He grabbed the orc's arm and flipped him to the ground before thrusting his sword through the creature's chest, watched as its mouth opened in one final gasp.

"Is backup coming?" Caladel called back to him, kicking an orc in the chest.

"Too slowly," Legolas answered, taking his eyes off an orc he was fighting to view the battlefield around him. He still hadn't seen any sign of Naruvir…

For the first time since the beginning of the battle he could feel the sounds and the blood and the smell beginning to get to him, his heart pounding inside his chest. It wasn't supposed to be like this… Not now.

Caladel and Naruvir had never even seen orcs before this fight. It was supposed to be over. Another elf close to them cried out in pain and Legolas snapped his head towards the sound only to see a young warrior falling to the ground, clutching a knife in his upper arm, his face screwed up in pain.

It was supposed to be over…

"Granddad?" Caladel's voice cut through the haze that was beginning to cover his mind.

These were his people. His warriors. His children.

A sudden rage burned inside Legolas' chest, mixing with past hopelessness and pain. No more blood. He would allow no more blood to be spilt of his peoples, not to these creatures. Not to the darkness.

As it always had in the past, his power reacted to his rage, building up in his chest. The backup team wasn't going to reach them in time. He had to do something. With a snarl Legolas grabbed the handle of his sword with both hands, raising it slightly before plunging it into the ground, going down on one knee even as he released the power that had built up inside him.

Brilliant white light burst from his body like an explosion, hurtling through the clearing in endless waves, rushing through the battlefield like giant, blazing domes. Instantly, the screaming began. Guttural shrieks, jarring snarls, and whines almost like sounds that came from dogs in pain burst from the orcs in the clearing even as they crashed to their knees. Some on the outer edges managed to hurtle away into the forest, screeching and snarling to get away from the pain the light brought them.

Caladel watched his grandfather with wide eyes. This was the warrior who had helped win the war. This was the power that Sauron himself had had reason to fear. The one that had driven the greatest enemy of Middle Earth from the forest singlehandedly. This was the only elf that Sauron had ever truly seen as a threat.

He could feel the sheer power rolling through him, making the palms of his hands sweat and his heart thud so hard inside his chest that it felt like it would never settle down once more. The trees around the clearing roared as his grandfather's power rolled through them, their branches shaking and their leaves rustling.

Looking around the clearing, he saw all of the orcs on the ground writhing and struggling against the light their continued to burst in waves from his grandfather, white with tints of brilliant blue and silver. To his surprise he also saw a few of his elves kneeling on the ground, their hands pressed against their chest as if they were trying to keep their hearts from bursting out.

Turning his gaze back to his grandfather, what he saw made his heart clench inside his chest. Legolas was beyond pale, sweat rolling down the side of his face from the strain that was clearly echoed in his expression. Caladel had just taken the first step towards him when the light finally stopped rolling from Legolas, falling towards the ground almost like it was being absorbed into the earth.

Seeing his grandfather waver dangerously, Caladel rushed to him and took hold of his shoulders just as he toppled forward. He could feel the coldness of his grandfather's body as Legolas leaned against his support, his head coming to rest on his shoulder, against his neck.

"Kill them before they regain their bearings!" Caladel called out sharply, his worry for his grandfather making all humor leave his voice. He didn't need to look at his patrol to hear that they were following his orders.

"Granddad?" Caladel asked worriedly. Legolas was trembling against him, his breathing labored.

Caladel waited for an answer but as seconds slowly turned into minutes, he began wondering if his grandfather was even truly conscious.

"Grand-"

"Where is Naru…?" Legolas breathed against his shoulder.

Caladel's brow furrowed and he jerked his head up to look at his surroundings, searching for his twin even as he reached inside himself after his bond with him. Immediately, he was met with a wall that blocked Naruvir's feelings from him, preventing him from feeling anything as the battle had gone on. Normally, by this time, Naruvir would be walking around the battlefield, taking care of wounded, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

Where was he?


	17. Thuiadagnir

**Chapter seventeen - Thuiadagnir**

Breaking through the barrier cutting him away from his twin, Caladel was immediately met with pain and darkness. His breathing caught inside his throat and his eyes flickered around the battlefield with greater urgency. No doubt sensing his franticness, his grandfather tremulously managed to pull back and sit up on his own, looking around the sight with dark blue eyes.

Seeing that Legolas could support himself, Caladel shot to his feet and began hurrying around the clearing, barely had he turned the first body before one of his patrol called his name sharply. Caladel jerked his head up and looked in that direction only to see Taranir kneeling on the ground beside a prone form.

With auburn hair…

Caladel leapt through the battlefield, jumping over bodies of orcs and dodging team members. At last, he threw himself to his knees besides Naruvir and Taranir. He placed his hand on Naruvir's shoulder and turned him onto his back, watching worried as his twin's head rolled lifelessly against the ground, his eyes closed.

"Naruvir…" Caladel breathed, his hand moving over his twin's pale cheek to his neck, pressing his fingers against his pulse. A shuddering breath left him and he closed his eyes in relief as an uneven pulse met his fingers.

He looked up at Taranir only to see his friend pulling his tunic off and pressing it against an arrow wound in Naruvir's shoulder. Just then another person dropped to his knees across from him and Caladel looked up to see his grandfather kneeling, pale and shaky, on Naruvir's other side. Nevertheless, there was something in his eyes, a glint of steadfastness and stubbornness.

"Taranir, carry him to the campfire," Legolas commanded, his voice filled with unmistakable authority despite his exhaustion. Taranir looked up at his Captain and, seeing his shaky nod, scooped Naruvir into his arms and bore him over to the campfire that they had made before the attack.

"Caladel, you need to pull yourself together right now," Legolas said hurriedly, but softly, "for Naruvir and for your patrol. Put someone in charge; have them see to the other wounded as well as the orcs."

Caladel took a shuddering breath and abruptly brought his trembling hands up to slap his cheeks before vaulting to his feet and moving quickly towards his second in command. Legolas watched him for a few seconds, his mind going completely numb without anything to keep its focus.

Valar, he was so tired…

The amount of power that he had released was something that he could barely afford, not after not sleeping properly for what seemed like years… Nevertheless, the memory of his unconscious and pale grandson was enough to make him dig deeply into his last resources for even the smallest amount of energy left. He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the way the world tilted alarmingly around him and the pain that lurched through his forehead as he staggered over to where Taranir was lowering Naruvir to the ground.

"Get his bag," Legolas ordered him even as he knelt beside Naruvir once more.

He heard Taranir leave to get what he asked even as he reached out and ripped Naruvir's tunic away from the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Drawing on his past experience, he felt the wound to get an idea of the position of the arrowhead. The arrow wasn't through and through; it had been stopped by Naruvir's shoulder blade.

The area around the wound was hot and Legolas' hand snapped up to Naruvir's forehead and neck, finding them in the same condition. His breathing was also becoming more and more labored, his lips turning slightly blue. The probability of there being poison on the arrow was increasing and Legolas knew that he had to get it out as quickly as possible.

Drawing a smaller knife from his boot, he held it into the flames on the fire at their side. Elves were beginning to move the other wounded to the area around the fireplace as well, taking care of their wounds just like he was taking care of Naruvir's.

Once the knife was sterilized from the flames, he drew it out and waited for it to cool down slightly. Taranir came back at that moment, holding Naruvir's pack, and Caladel followed soon after. His grandson hurried to his twin, sitting down by his head and brushing his fingers over his cheeks and hair, a worried expression on his pinched face.

"Taranir," Legolas said, cursing that his voice sounded weak, "I need you to hold him down. He may wake up."

Caladel jerked his head up. "What are you doing?" he asked apprehensively. "Wouldn't it be better to wait until the backup comes, surely they will have brought healers?"

"His wound may be poisoned," Legolas said as he felt around the arrow once more. "If it is what I suspect then there may not be time to wait for the healers." He looked up at his grandson with dark eyes and gave him a weary smile as he said, "Don't worry, I've done this before."

Caladel clenched his teeth together, but gave a jerky nod. "What do you need me to do?"

"If he wakes then keep him calm," Legolas answered. He took placed the sterilized knife against the wound and dug through Naruvir's bag to pull out some clean cloth to staunch the blood flow. "Ready?"

"Ready," Taranir grunted, having crossed Naruvir's arms over his chest so that he could hold them and his torso down with one hand as he used the other to stabilize the area around the wound.

"Ready," Caladel echoed, placing his hands against Naruvir's forehead and cheek, turning his head away from the wound.

Legolas nodded and without hesitation made two incisions on either side of the shaft before digging into the wound and using the knife to help him pull out the arrow in one smooth movement. Naruvir's body seized from the pain and a harsh cry lips his bluish lips as his glassy eyes flew open, looking around frantically for what was causing him pain. Immediately, Taranir tightened his grip and Caladel began speaking softly to Naruvir, slowly pulling his twin's focus to himself and soothing him as best he could.

Legolas moved the clean cloths he had found over the wound and pressed them down with one hand, pulling another groan from his grandson, even as he checked the arrow to see if he had gotten everything out. When he saw that he had, he licked the tip of the arrow, ignoring the taste of blood as best he could and focusing on the sharp taste underneath it.

Poison.

A poison he had encountered before; one that would cause the muscles to relax until the person stopped breathing.

Spitting out the blood and poison, he instructed Caladel to take over for him in pressing down on the wound and stood up. He took Naruvir's bag and walked over to the fireplace, quickly fishing out his pack of herbs, water skin, small pot, and a bowl. Without wasting a second, he placed the pot in the flames and poured some water into it to boil. He then took the bowl and sifted through the herb pack, quickly pulling out everything that he would need before pouring it into the bowl and mixing it together, adding a bit of water until it was a paste.

He cast a glance around him and quickly called the nearest elf over to him. "Here," he rushed, scooping the better part of the paste into another bowl and passing it to him. "You check the wounded. If anyone has these symptoms: difficulties breathing, uneven pulse, weakness or numbness in the body, confusion, slurred speech, then you spread this on their wounds. One archer who had poisoned arrows, maybe more had the same."

The elf nodded and began running around to check all of the injured, Legolas' urgency making him hurry. Legolas stood up, leaving the water to come to a boil as he hurried over to his grandson.

Naruvir's breath was whistling and his speech slurred and confused as he tried to say something to Caladel, who was shushing him gently, caressing his hair and cheeks.

"See, here comes granddad," Caladel whispered softly to Naruvir, throwing a worried glance up at him as he kneeled by Naruvir's side before turning to his twin once more. "He has something here that will help you, little brother. Don't you worry about a thing, you're going to be just fine… Just fine…"

Naruvir tried to say something else, but Legolas couldn't make out what it was. He reached out and turned Naruvir's face towards him, catching his grandson's half-lidded, silver gaze. Naruvir's eyes fell shut. "Hey," Legolas said softly, tapping his cheek. "Hey, look at me, Naru. Eyes on me."

Naruvir opened his eyes with difficulty and looked into his, his lips moved but no sound came out.

"I need you to stay awake for me, Naru," Legolas told him. "Don't try to say anything, just focus on staying awake." He turned his gaze to his eldest grandson. "Keep him awake."

Caladel nodded and began speaking to his twin again, pulling Naruvir's attention away as Legolas hurriedly gestured for Taranir to remove the cloths that he had pressing down on Naruvir's wound. Then he scooped up the paste that he had made and lathered Naruvir's wound with it. Naruvir's muscles seized and he gave another moan of pain.

Legolas then found some clean cloths and motioned for Taranir to press them against Naruvir's wound.

"Shh…" Caladel whispered to Naruvir, brushing his fingers over his brother's pale cheeks. Legolas stood up and walked over to the fire to throw herbs into the water that had come to a boil. "I know that it hurts but you need to stay awake, Naru. …You know, it's not supposed to be our healer who gets wounded," he joked with a small smile, "you're doing this just to be difficult, aren't you?"

The corners of Naruvir's lips twitched in amusement, but slowly his eyes slid shut.

"Naru, open your eyes," Caladel called to him, tapping his cheek. "Naruvir." He turned to his grandfather, only to see that Legolas was already beside him.

He hurriedly placed his hand against Naruvir's cheek and pushed some of his energy into his grandson. Naruvir's eyes flew open once more, a gasp escaping his lips. Caladel immediately focused his attention on his twin and didn't notice as his grandfather slumped together, catching himself before he could fall to the ground.

"Sir?" Taranir asked quietly, placing his free arm around Legolas' chest and drawing him upright against him.

Legolas kept his eyes closed, his head pounding inside his skull, white-hot pain spreading from behind his eyes and his forehead all the way to the back of his skull. He felt something roll down from his nose and brought his arm up to press his sleeve against it, already knowing without looking that it was blood.

He was getting too old and too rusty to use the kind of power that he had this night.

"What do you need me to do?" Taranir asked steadily, his voice soft enough for Caladel not to hear it.

"The tea," Legolas whispered. "Get a mug for Naruvir… and have them pass the rest around… to other poisoned."

"I'll do that," Taranir promised. Legolas felt something press against the arm that he held against his nose and opened his eyes slightly; squinting from the pain the light brought him. Taranir was holding out a cloth that he could use instead of his sleeve. Taking it, he pressed it against his nose and leaned slightly forward, away from Taranir's support.

He closed his eyes as he heard Taranir stand up, trying to fight through the way his head from spinning from blood loss. When it was slightly pushed down, he blinked open his eyes and immediately found himself caught in Naruvir's gaze. His grandson was looking worriedly at him, his eyes still slightly hazy but his cheeks and lips beginning to regain some of their color because of the antidote and the energy he had given him.

"Granddad…" Naruvir whispered.

Caladel cocked his head slightly to the side before looking behind him, his eyes widening as they landed on his grandfather. Immediately, he reached out and felt his grandfather's forehead for a fever before checking for a head wound.

Legolas grimaced as the pressure of Caladel's touch caused his headache to flare up to even higher proportions. He flinched away from his grandson's hands, clenching his eyes shut until it died down slightly once more, his stomach rolling uncomfortably with nausea.

"I'm not wounded…" he whispered hoarsely. "…Used too much power…"

"What can I do to help?" Caladel asked softly, keeping his voice low.

"Nothing…" Legolas breathed, forcing his eyes open as he felt himself getting pulled deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Just as Taranir hurried to their side once more with a steaming mug in his hands, the sound of horses galloping towards their camp rolled through the air. The clearing had almost been completely cleared while they had taken care of Naruvir, the orcs piled in the farthest corner of the camp and all of the wounded brought to the area around the campfire. Two elven lives had been lost in the battle, their bodies covered with the cloaks of their brothers in arms as they lay in the opposite corner to the orcs.

Caladel took the mug from Taranir and pressed it against his brother's lips, urging him to swallow even as the reinforcements rode into the clearing, Elrohir and Alfirin in the lead with Elladan and Glorfindel just behind them. Further ten had come with them, there amongst Yúcalë, Elfaron, Anarórë, and Pengon.

Legolas knew that many would have stayed behind in the event that a greater attack was made on the city itself.

The team only needed a moment to take stock of the situation, then all of them jumped into the roles afforded them. Pengon and Elladan hurrying over to the wounded even as Alfirin conferred with Caladel's second in command, seeing that Caladel was kneeling beside Naruvir.

Elrohir immediately sprung off his horse and hurried to his son's side, having eyes for no one other than Naruvir and Caladel. Glorfindel followed him. Knowing that Elrohir would take care of his son, he focused his attention on the pale figure sitting beside them, pulling off his cloak as he walked and wrapping it around Legolas' shoulders as he kneeled down behind him, pulling him against his chest.

"What happened?" Elrohir asked frantically as he kneeled on the other side of Naruvir, Taranir standing and leaving to give them room.

"I don't know, exactly," Caladel answered without taking his eyes from his twin as he gently sat brushing his fingers through Naruvir's hair while feeding him the tea. "He blocked me off. We found him after the battle with an arrow in his shoulder. Granddad took it out because it was poisoned and treated it."

Elrohir moved aside the cloths that covered Naruvir's wound and pressed lightly on the area surrounding the wound. The bleeding had stopped by then.

Afterwards, he raised his gaze to Legolas, his eyes widening in shock as he for the first time caught sight of his friend. From his paleness, nosebleed, dark eyes, as well as the trembles that shook his body and the indications that he had a bad headache, Elrohir knew instantly what was wrong with him, having seen it so many times before.

"Thuiadagnir," Legolas muttered, his voice muffled from the blood-saturated cloth he held under his nose. Elrohir's eyes widened with worry as he heard the name of the poison. "I have already given him the antidote," Legolas then said, briefly listing the ingredients to the concerned father.

Elrohir nodded in response. "What is he being given now?" he then asked.

"Something for the pain… before it is stitched," Legolas responded weakly, closing his eyes and leaning against Glorfindel's chest. "Feverfew for the fever, athelas for strength and infection…"

Elrohir relaxed in response, a relieved smile appearing on his lips. "Thank you, Legolas…" he said softly, his voice grateful. He then turned to Naruvir, pressing a kiss against his forehead. "You're going to be just fine," he told him.

Seeing that Naruvir wound be all right, Glorfindel felt that it was all right to turn their attention to Legolas, who seemed to be the more immediate issue. "How much power has he released?" Glorfindel asked Caladel. "I know that he already reinforced the border around Cirban Gilion before he rode out to help you, but what has he done since he arrived?"

Caladel turned to Glorfindel, looking worriedly at his grandfather before meeting the reborn warrior's blue eyes. "He was the one who stopped the fighting… I don't know exactly how he did it, but he must have incapacitated the last twenty orcs. Later, Naruvir was close to losing consciousness so he gave him some of his energy."

Glorfindel sighed at those words; he reached down and gently squeezed Legolas cold hand. "You moron," he whispered to him fondly. Then he reached up and placed his hand over the one Legolas was using to hold the cloth against his nose. "Let me see," he said.

Legolas moved the cloth away and Glorfindel took it from him. Seeing that the blood flow had stopped, Glorfindel used a clean corner of the cloth to wide away the traces of blood still left before throwing the bloody cloth into the fireplace.

"Will he be all right?" Caladel asked worriedly.

Legolas heard everything that went on around him but couldn't find the energy to soothe his grandson's worry. Instead, he relaxed completely against Glorfindel's warm chest, trying to still the trembles that rolled up and down his limbs from overexertion. Pain still pounded against his skull despite the fact that he could fully relax now that the reinforcements had arrived.

"He'll be all right," Glorfindel answered softly. "But he will need rest …a lot of rest. It will be days before he is fully recovered." He reached down and maneuvered the nearly limp Legolas slightly away from his chest so that he could take off his bow, quiver, knives, and sword. All of these he lay with reverence, but mostly sadness, beside Naruvir.

"I thought I told you that I never wanted to see a weapon in your hands ever again…" Glorfindel sighed and then stood, hoisting Legolas into his arms.

Legolas groaned as the movement caused his headache to flare up, but the pain pulled him slightly away from the darkness that had encompassed his mind. Opening his eyes halfway, he gazed up at Glorfindel, blinking sluggishly as he locked onto those sky blue eyes.

"…Sorry…" he breathed and then left his eyes fall shut once more.

Glorfindel leaned his head down and pressed a soft kiss against Legolas' sweaty forehead. Telling him without words that he was forgiven. Then he turned to Elrohir, who had slowly been taking care of Naruvir's shoulder. "I will take him to the edge of camp so that he can sleep undisturbed near the trees."

Elrohir nodded in response, so Glorfindel shifted Legolas slightly higher in his arms before walking over towards the tree line. He laid his burden down against one of the trees and whistled to call Asfaloth to him. The white stallion came gracefully, the silver bells in his bridle tinkling harmoniously.

After making sure that Legolas could stay sitting on his own, he made his way over to Asfaloth and pulled down the saddlebag that he had hastily packed before riding out. He brought it over to where he had placed Legolas, Asfaloth following and beginning to graze in the grass beside them. Tinco walked over as well, lowering his head and pressing his velvety nose worriedly against Legolas' cheek, nibbling his neck.

Weakly, Legolas lifted his hand and placed it against Tinco's cheek, patting it gently.

Glorfindel crouched beside Legolas and pulled his bedroll from his pack, rolling it out on the ground before finding his water skin and a wafer of Lembas. Moving over to Legolas once more, he gently pushed Tinco towards Asfaloth, telling him that Legolas would be fine and that he should graze, before kneeling beside Legolas.

"Here," he said, unstopping the water skin. "Drink something." He held the water skin to Legolas' lips and gently poured water into his mouth. Legolas choked slightly on the first mouthful but was able to drink a bit before he turned his head away from it.

Glorfindel stopped the bottle and broke a small corner off of the Lembas. "I know that you're probably feeling sick but I need you to eat this for me, Legolas. It's only a small piece of Lembas to help you get your strength up." He pressed it against Legolas' lips and after a brief moments hesitation, Legolas opened his mouth and took it from his fingers, chewing it sluggishly before swallowing.

Glorfindel gave the Lembas a moment to work and soon he was gifted with the sight of Legolas' eyes fluttering open once more, his irises a deep midnight blue. It seemed so dark a color… but truthfully it wasn't that far from the sapphire blue color his eyes had been since Faneth had died. Still it caused his heart to clench with anxiety, knowing that Legolas was completely drained…

He had been stronger before, able to hold the barrier around Mirkwood while using his powers and guarding his mind without even taking a moment to rest… That he was so drained now showed more than anything how strained he was, how wounded he still was from Faneth's passing and everything else that had befallen him. No doubt, the countless sleepless nights that he had been having recently were as large an attribute to his exhaustion now as anything else.

"How are you feeling?" Glorfindel asked softly, realizing that he had been quiet for quite some time.

"…Tired," Legolas whispered softly, his eyes slipping closed once more. "…Headache… Cold… …I'll be fine…"

"Once you sleep for two days straight you will be, you mean?" Glorfindel snorted with a smile on his lips. He drew Legolas into his arms again and shuffled him over to the bedroll that he had laid out for him. A small smile lifter the corners of Legolas' lips and Glorfindel covered him with his cloak as well as a blanket from his saddlebag, wanting to warm him up as quickly as possible.

"I have some tea for him."

Glorfindel started in surprise and jerked his head up to see Alfirin kneeling by Legolas' head, the wood elf's approach soundless. Alfirin reached under Legolas head and gently lifted it so that he could lay it upon his lap, elevating it slightly.

"Yulsina, Titta Lassë," Alfirin said softly, Nandorin rolling soothingly and melodiously from his tongue. He placed the mug against Legolas' lips and gently tilted it into his mouth bit after bit, making sure that it was swallowed. "Antavása alyë poldorë ar linta castya." [Drink this, little leaf. It will give strength and soothe your headache.]

Halfway through the mug, Alfirin felt Legolas drifting silently off to sleep and placed the mug to the side for later. As Legolas fell asleep, he softly sang a Nandorin lullaby while running his fingers through Legolas' hair and over his forehead in an attempt to soothe his headache further.

"He is cold," Alfirin said in accented Sindarin after Legolas had fallen sleep, looking up at Glorfindel with his hawk-like eyes.

"You know he always is when he is this exhausted…" Glorfindel responded, then sighed and reached down to take first Legolas' boots off and then his own. He slipped underneath the cloak and blanket and pulled Legolas tightly against his chest to share his body heat. Alfirin carefully tucked both of them in, pulling off his cloak and spreading it over them as well.

"He used his power three times tonight," Glorfindel told Alfirin. "To secure the city, incapacitate twenty orcs, and to give Naruvir energy. And you know just as well as I that he hasn't been sleeping well for a long time."

Alfirin nodded in response. "He is slipping again… although, he tries to keep Elrohir, Maliel, Caladel, and Naruvir from finding out."

"Elrohir and Maliel already know," Glorfindel said. A shiver went through Legolas' body so Glorfindel drew him closer, rubbing his hands up and down Legolas' back. "Legolas has never told them directly, but he hasn't gone to what lengths he would have in the past to pretend that he is all right …at least not when Naruvir and Caladel aren't around. Just like me, they are waiting for him to reach out to us for help."

"Amarië…" Alfirin whispered under his breath, his yellow-green eyes looking down to focus on Legolas even as he reached out and gently combed his fingers through his long silvery-white hair. "Let us allow him to choose when to reach out to us… He isn't so far gone yet; it might help for a while to go about his day as if everything is as it should be."

"You believe that he will come to us when he needs us?" Glorfindel asked, his voice shadowed with uncertainly and the need for reassurance.

"He will come to us," Alfirin answered a smile playing on his lips. "You taught him that."

O

Pain.

It raged inside his head like a firestorm rolling over the dry plains of Dagorlad, fiery and untamable. Like Gimli had been unleashed inside it with an axe and a chisel, hacking away at his skull in an attempt to shape it into something entirely different.

The amount of times in his life he had woken, feeling like this, was lost to him as his mind continued to spin and whirl sickeningly. All his memories jumbled together as he struggled to regain his bearings even somewhat, battling against the weariness and exhaustion that clung to his body and numbed his thoughts.

The pain in his head worsened steadily as he drew further and further away from unconsciousness. Weakly, he tried to cling onto whatever blackness he could, tried to hold onto the numbness and keep the pain at bay.

Alas, it was not to be. The more he fought the return to consciousness the more he was pushed out of oblivion, the pain in his head steadily climbing. A wince passed over his face, his eyebrows scrunching together. Dimly, he could hear low talking around him but couldn't truly register the words that were being said.

Forcing his eyes open, he was momentarily blinded but the overly sharp light from a candle at his bedside. For he was in a bed… A soft one. Another wince passed over his face and he cast his eyes weakly around him, his sight hazy and blurred.

Someone sat by his bedside, auburn hair curling softly down her back, reaching all the way to her waist.

Legolas reached out towards the locks, his arm feeling like it was weighed down by rocks.

"…Faneth…?" he mumbled wearily.

A jolt went through her body and she turned, looking at him with wide, sky-blue eyes.

Not amber…

Not Faneth…

A jolt of pain stabbed mercilessly through his heart, almost like he had received an actual, physical wound. His mind jolted back into the present when all he wanted was to sink back into unawareness. Emptiness began to fill his heart once more as his soul called out hopelessly for a presence that could not be found anywhere.

Fingers combed their way lightly through his hair and he looked up from the point that he had been staring sightlessly at, unaware that his eyes had darkened further with grief. Maliel was smiling gently to him, sadness in her eyes as she continued to stroke his hair.

"How are you feeling, Ada?" she whispered gently.

A movement at the corner of his eye had him turning his head to see Glorfindel sitting down on the other side of his bed. He now recognized that he was lying in his own bed, on the platform above his home. His head spun as he tried to remember how he had gotten there…

"Ada?" Maliel repeated, forcing his wandering mind back to her.

Another pang smote his heart as he looked into her sky-blue eyes, but he forced himself to ignore it as he whispered, "all right… Headache…"

Her eyes brimmed with sympathy and she gave his hair one last stroke before leaning down and picking a mug up from the floor beside the bed. "Drink this. It is Ecphen's blend." She gently held it against his lips, batting his hand as he tried to reach for the mug.

Suddenly finding his mouth as dry as sand, he drained the tea quickly. The taste of it was as recognizable to him as water, containing feverfew to dull the pain of his headache, Athelas to suppress the affects of the black wounds upon his chest, ginger for his nausea, valerian root to calm him, as well as several other herbs.

He could slowly feel his body relaxing as he drank it, knowing that the pain would start lessoning soon as well. His eyes slipped closed on their own accord and he could barely find the strength to open them once more, ending up with forcing them halfway up.

"…How did I get here?" he mumbled tiredly.

"You would not wake when it was time to leave so I rode with you on Asfaloth," Glorfindel answered, his voice soft and carrying a hint of worry. "As for how you got up the tree to the bed, you will have to ask Alfirin." Glorfindel suddenly gave an amused smile. "He told me to leave it all to a proper wood elf so I don't know if he carried you all the way up here by himself, climbing up the branches with you hanging over his shoulder, or if he somehow got the tree to help him."

 _I may have lent him a branch or two._

A vague smile lifted the corners of his lips as the trees voice sounded gently inside his aching head. His eyes slipped closed again and this time it was impossible to force them up.

"…How is Naruvir?" he mumbled, briefly wondering if they could understand him in his tiredness.

"He is going to be all right," Maliel's voice answered softly, her fingers finding his hair once more and beginning to stroke it. "Caladel and Elrohir are with him. Caladel hasn't moved form his side since they arrived this morning, quite frankly I think he is beginning to get on his brother's nerves with his fretting. You have slept the entire day, Ada, so we were more worried about you."

Legolas was silent for a moment but then asked, "Is the city safe…?"

"Your city is whole," Glorfindel answered soothingly, taking his hand and stroking the back of it with his thumb. "A few stray orcs managed to escape the battle and run to the borders but the barrier you made around the perimeter brought them to their knees, wailing. So the guards that were left had no trouble dispatching them."

"Good…"

Darkness began tugging at his mind again, the pain somewhat dulled and his head no longer spinning quite so violently. The pain in his heart, however, was not something that could be deadened with time or with herbs…

"Go to sleep, Ada," Maliel said, soothing her fingers through his hair. "We will stay by your side."

 _Rest, fledgling._ The old tree rumbled gently in his mind. _You are safe within my boughs._

Legolas let his mind drift off, leaving behind the last of the pain and heartache and giving himself over to a deep, exhausted sleep that could not be disrupted by nightmares.


	18. The next adventure

**Chapter eighteen – The next adventure**

 _The 65th year of the Forth Age. Caladel and Naruvir are sixty-seven years old._

Elrohir looked up as Maliel entered the living room, her expression slightly downcast as she walked over to the couch he was sitting on and reading. In her hand was a thick, leather-bound book that he recognized instantly as he placed his own tome on the table.

"You finished it," he said softly.

She nodded as she placed the book on the table beside his and dropped onto the couch as well, leaning against his chest and burrowing her face into his neck. He gently circled his arms around her and shifted to accommodate her better as she rested between his legs.

Many times during the making of this book, he had stood by his love's side, comforting her as she was told more and more tales from her father's life; tales that more often than not were painful and heart wrenching, full of agony and darkness. Legolas had told her everything that there was to tell, and she had spent the last years going through notes written at each session, filling them out and slowly but surely committing her father's story to paper.

And now, here it was. A collection of everything… a collection of every harrowing experience, every moment of grief, every joy, and every beautiful moment. It was all gathered together in this book, this thick book that now lay on the table.

This was Legolas' life.

Whatever measures one took to distance oneself from truly facing what had happened to him, however much one tried to brush off his experiences and look away from them, only seeing the elf that was now. This book. This one book made all of that impossible.

It was all here, black on white, pen on paper.

For the first time, Maliel had truly heard what had happened when Legolas had fought Sauron, heard how close to death he himself had been when she had been watching her mother succumb to grief at home. For the first time, she knew exactly how many times that he had been captured and tortured. For the first time, he told her just how many comrades had died before his eyes. For the first time, she understood completely just how important it had been for him to have Faneth, and how much her own birth had given him light.

"…I just finished the last page," Maliel whispered hoarsely, "and I didn't know what to do then… I just stared at it… It almost feels as if I am condemning him, by writing this book, Ro…" Anger twisted her face. "It all happened, dammit! Every single thing! One part of me wants to throw it directly into the fire and just watch it go up in flames. …But his life isn't something that I can throw away at will. I can't close my eyes to it and I can't burry it in the past when out of all the people on this earth, he is the one who has paid the heaviest price for the peace that now reigns…"

Elrohir tightened his arms around her, and combed his fingers through her long, auburn hair, pressing a kiss against her temple. "Nothing we do now can change was has already happened long ago," he told her softly. "But no matter how painful that book is, no matter if no one is ever going to allowed to read it… It has already served its purpose. Telling you all these things has been hard for him, but no matter how hard, it is clear that talking to you has helped him work through a lot that has happened."

Elrohir felt as some of the tension left his wife, causing her to relax further against his chest. Her lips brushed against his collarbone in silent appreciation of his words.

"You are right," she mumbled, her lips against his neck. "It helped him to talk about it… But I'm still here now… with a book in my hands, and I have no idea what to call it. What words could possibly what is in that book? …We should just call it 'the book of sorrow' and be done with it."

Elrohir chuckled lowly at the exasperation in Maliel's voice, but he could also hear traces of pain and bitterness so he ran his hand gently over her back and her sides. He was silent for a moment as he thoughts, but after a while he responded.

"There is only one thing we can call it," he whispered to her, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against the top of her hair. "'The Hope of Mirkwood'. …It was what Glorfindel named Legolas when he told stories of him to Estel as a child, and it is what Legolas has been to Mirkwood all of his life. He has been their hope."

Maliel was quiet for a moment but then she murmured against his neck, "It's rather heartbreakingly ironic, isn't it? It sounds so cheerful… He may have been the hope of Mirkwood but it was at the cost of his own happiness."

"…Maybe," Elrohir responded softly. "But through all of that hardship and all of that heartbreak, he gained comrades who trust him and whom he trusts completely. He has gained friends and made a family. He has been at the forefront of the struggle of his people, and watched as they, united, overcame the darkness that tried in vain to overshadow them and bring them down.

"By the sweat of his brow, the blood of himself and his people, by all of their shouts, their cries, their laughter, and their silence… He has watched as they refused to be beaten down, has encouraged them and rallied them together as none other could, united wood elves with Sindarin elves, and led them forward ceaselessly until now, at last, they are finally free. …It may be heartbreakingly ironic, but it is also his greatest achievement. One that no one else could have accomplished."

"You are right." Maliel said then, her voice both solemn and determined. She slowly eased herself out of Elrohir's arms, looking him deeply in the eyes and kissing him gratefully, before turning towards the table and running her finger once more over the thick book that had been written by her hand.

Her fingertips traced the outline of the gnarly tree that had been etched into the brown leather that made the cover of the book. Then, she untied the string that held it closed and turned to the first page. Taking up the quill that Elrohir had used earlier to pen a letter, she inked the tip and wrote with flowing letters upon the first page:

' _The Hope of Mirkwood'_

 _A book describing the life of Legolas Thranduilion_

She added no author, nor any other information, only this. All other information was irrelevant it seemed, in comparison to the life that was described inside the book. Elrohir shifted behind her, moving his legs on either side of her and sitting up against her back, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Reaching out, he ran his finger carefully over the creamy white page, keeping his fingers away from the drying ink. Then he lifted the first page and gazed at the densely written pages that followed. It was written in Maliel's flowing handwriting, every word and sentence.

Maliel gently reached out and took the page from his fingers, laying it down once more. "I promised Ada that no one would read it without his permission," she said.

"I know." Elrohir squeezed her and pressed a kiss against her neck. He was about to say something more when the front door opened. Looking up, he saw his twin entering the house, a smile appearing on his lips when he saw the two of them together on the couch.

"Hey," Elladan greeted them as he sat down on the armchair across from the couch. "Are my nephews ready to go ice-fishing with Isilmë and I?"

"Oh, so Isilmë is coming is she?" Elrohir asked with a sly grin. Elladan had been spending more and more time with the wood elf the last century, and Elrohir had been relieved to see his twin livening up once more. For years he had been worried that Elladan had been regretting his decision to cleave to elven kind with him all those years before when he had first asked Maliel to marry him.

Elladan gave a mischievous smirk, but didn't have time to answer before a knock sounded on the door and it opened once more. Isilmë entered the house, striding inside with an innate, cat-like grace. She had left her silver hair hanging loose to her waist and her dark green eyes surveyed them before a feral grin appeared on her lips and she stalked over to Elladan, sitting down on the armrest.

Her silver hair and dark green eyes contrasted perfectly with Elladan's dark, black hair and grey eyes.

"Nai elen siluva lyenna," Isilmë greeted them smoothly in Nandorin, placing her fingers first against her forehead and then against her heart as she inclined her head to them. [May a star shine upon you.]

Maliel smiled brightly to her before standing and walking over to her. She took her hands in hers and lifted them to her mouth to place a chaste, sisterly kiss upon them. "Nai elen siluva lyenna yando," she replied. [May a star shine upon you also.]

"You are much like your father, Aranel," Isilmë said softly after a moment, her dark green eyes looking intently into Maliel's. [Princess.]

"Please, I have told you time and time again," Maliel sighed, but with an indulgent smile on her lips. "There is no need for such formality. You are a friend of this family, …and maybe one day I will even get to call you sister."

Neither Elladan nor Isilmë blushed at the insinuation, on the contrary both grinned wolfishly and Elladan reached out to pull Isilmë from her perch on the armrest to his lap. He attempted to smack a kiss against her red lips, but before he got the chance Isilmë had already rolled cat-like from his lap. At his pout, she only gave a predatory smile and stalked up to him once more, pushing him against the back of the chair and whispering something into his ear before pressing her lips seductively against his without loosening the pressure she had on his chest.

At that point, Elrohir could no longer stifle the chuckles that rolled past his lips, his mirth only heightening when he saw the blush that had spread out on his gorgeous wife's cheeks. Nevertheless, Maliel and him shared an indulgent smile.

"Oh Valar, if it wasn't enough seeing Ada and Nana eating each other's faces!" Caladel's voice suddenly came from the doorway. He made a great display of pretending to throw up before it was cut off by Naruvir pushing him through the door with an impatient huff.

Both twins came into the room, dressed warmly in woolen tunics and cloaks. Naruvir placed an assortment of fishing gear against the wall before they moved further into the room. Despite Caladel's feigned horror earlier, he greeted Isilmë like an old friend, jesting comfortably with her. Naruvir also greeted both her and Elladan warmly, but Elrohir noticed his youngest son's gaze drifting towards the leather-bound book resting on the surface of the table.

"You've finished it," he said softly, his silver eyes rising to meet his mother's.

"It's finished," she responded with a small smile.

Naruvir moved over to the table and reached out to trace the outline of the tree that embellished the cover. He looked up at his father with blazing eyes then, a rare flash of passion and determination. "One day I will read this," he then said, his voice certain and calm.

Elrohir felt his lips curving into a smile and he answered, "Then you will have to work on persuading him from this day forth and perhaps one day he will give you permission to read it only so he won't have to listen to you anymore."

Naruvir gave an amused snort and looked up as he felt his mother reached out to brush her hand over his hair. His firmness melted away at her touch and he gave a smile before asking, "Do you think grandfather has reached Minas Tirith by now?"

"If I know Glorfindel right then he would have held your grandfather back so he wouldn't exhaust himself by galloping the whole way," Maliel answered. "They will probably reach the city within a few hours."

"At which time we will hopefully have managed to carve a hole in the ice and catch a few fish for dinner," Elladan said as he stood from the armchair. "We should probably head out now as I know for a fact that getting everything done with you two lunatics running around will make everything take twice as long."

"Oh really?" Caladel snorted. "Twice as long as opposed to when you and Isilmë are out there …on your own, more interested in sharing body heat than trying to catch fish?"

Elladan reached out and smacked his chortling nephew over the head, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his amusement.

O

Asfaloth and Tinco's hooves clanked against the white cobblestone of the citadel as they ascended to the highest level of Minas Tirith, snow falling gently around them. Glorfindel glanced at Legolas for what seemed like the hundredth time the past hour. A few years ago Legolas had reached out towards him and Alfirin, but even with their help and support it seemed like he was on a steady decline and Glorfindel and worried about how he would handle what this visit was about.

Faint traces of slow collapse were beginning to show on Legolas' body. He was getting thinner once more, despite the fact that him and Alfirin had been making sure he ate and the fact that Legolas was doing his very best to do so. In addition to this, his eyes had become slightly darker and he had taken to taking naps during the day because his nights were still plagued by nightmares.

Legolas' eyes didn't lose the blankness that had filled them as they had rode through the city until the doors to the citadel opened and Arwen strode into the courtyard. There was a soft smile on her ageless face, her grey eyes shining like starlight regardless of the sadness within.

"Welcome to Minas Tirith," she greeted them in her soft, melodious voice, kissing both of their cheeks as they dismounted and gave their horses to two stable boys that came for them. "I wish that I could greet you under happier circumstances, but alas one cannot stop the passing of time."

"How is he?" Legolas asked solemnly.

"He is waiting for you," Arwen answered, hooking her arm through Legolas' in an attempt to comfort him as she began leading them into the King's house. Glorfindel smiled reassuringly to his honorary daughter as she looked back at him to see if he was following. She returned it before turning her attention back to Legolas. "Estel is with him now, but there is nothing more he can do and nothing more he should. It is the natural way of life, though it may seem unfair to us immortals."

A pang went involuntarily through Legolas' heart as he heard Arwen addressing herself as immortal even when both of them knew that she had chosen to be among her uncle's kin, to walk the path of the mortal and stay by Aragorn's side. One day, he would have to say goodbye to her as well. One day, he would have to say goodbye to them all.

He barely registered being led through the house until they were standing before a white, oak door, the scent of Athelas and lavender wafting out from the room beyond. His throat went even drier than it had been before and he could only nod as Arwen looked at him searchingly.

She then raised her hand and tapped the door a few times, giving his arm a comforting squeeze. A moment passed before the door opened and Aragorn stepped outside, his face weary but at peace.

"My friends," he greeted them softly and clasped forearms with both Legolas and Glorfindel, holding Legolas' arm a little longer before pulling him into a tight hug. "It is good of you to come. I do not think that it will be much longer now. He is ready to go."

"Is he awake?" Legolas asked, his voice somewhat hoarse, closing his eyes as he leaned into his friend's embrace.

"He is awake and knows that you are here," Aragorn answered. "He wants to see you… Gimli and him have already spoken and said their goodbyes."

"Should there not be someone more important than me to sit with him in his last moments…?" Legolas whispered. "He knows you best of all of us …and what of his son Faramir?"

"Faramir is still in the Shire," Aragorn told him gently. "He already said goodbye to his father when he first set out for Gondor. …You mean as much to him as any of us, my friend. Go to him, Legolas. If anything happens, you need only call and I will come to your side, but there is nothing more than I can do for him."

Legolas nodded against his friend's shoulder and drew back to look upon the door, beyond which he could hear slightly rattling breaths and occasional coughs. He was about to reach out towards the door when Glorfindel opened his mouth.

"I do not think you should go in there alone, Legolas," he said so softly that only the elves, Legolas and Arwen, were able to hear him.

Legolas turned to look at him, his navy blue eyes weary and full of sadness. Nevertheless, he raised his lips in a slight smile at his friend's worry. "I'll be all right, Glorfindel. …I'll call if I need anyone."

The door to the room creaked slightly as he pushed it open, his eyes immediately going to the figure lying on the bed, propped up by a mound of soft pillows.

"Hey Pippin," Legolas said softly as he walked into the room and closed the door behind him.  
The aged hobbit beamed at him, his smile tired but just as bright as it had always been. "Hullo Legolas," he greeted him fondly. His eyes still shone with youthfulness despite the fact that his body had aged and his golden curls had turned grey. The veins showed clearly on the hand that laid on top of the cream covers that laid over his legs and waist. Legolas reached out to take it in his own as he sat down in the chair beside the bed.

Only months had passed since he had last come to Minas Tirith, arriving to find out that he had come too late and that Merry had passed away with his best friend by his side, the very hobbit that he was sitting beside now. The year before he had received a missive from Rohan telling him that Éomer had died and that he was invited to the funeral. A few years before that it had been Sam who had chosen to follow his Master Frodo over the sea.

Everyone was leaving…

"I would have liked to see your golden city one last time," Pippin said, his words slightly mumbled. "And visited Faramir in Minas Ithil, told him that if he had any use for an old hobbit I would gladly be in service of him once more. Even if there was nothing more to do for us old men than sit, feast, and smoke all day."

Pippin chuckled in amusement, his eyes sparkling. Only a moment passed before his laugh turned into rattling coughs. Legolas reached out and supported him as his frail body shook with the coughs. When the fit finally ended, Legolas took a mug that stood on the bedside table and helped Pippin sip the tea inside.

"I do not think you will benefit from smoking all day, young hobbit," Legolas said softly, giving Pippin a smile as he placed the mug back on the table.

Pippin scowled playfully. "Strider seems to have the same strange idea. Just listen to this Peregrin Took when he tells you that a bit of Longbottom Leaf has never harmed anyone," Pippin said, a twinkle in his eyes as a grin broke his scowl. "You wouldn't happen to know of a stash here in Minas Tirith? I'm sure Strider has some hidden away somewhere. A great elf prince like you wouldn't have any issues finding it and sneaking me some, I'm sure."

Legolas involuntarily felt a chuckle leave his lips and gazed upon the hobbit with fondness. Pippin broke into coughs once more, though, an attack that lasted even longer than last and left him pale and weak. Throughout the attack, Legolas supported the ailing hobbit, feeling his heart clench inside his chest. It seemed like no time had passed since they had both been members of the fellowship, Pippin seeming to him like he was no older than an innocent, curious child. Now here he was, sitting beside his deathbed…

This time it took much longer for the coughs to end and when they did Pippin sunk back against the pillows, his cheeks sallow.

"I've done well for such a wee fellow, haven't I Legolas?" Pippin said faintly. "Seen the whole wide world beyond the Shire, Rivendell, the Misty Mountains, Moria, Lothlorien, Fangorn, Rohan, Gondor, and Mordor… Become friends with elves, dwarves, men, ents, fought orcs, trolls, and goblins. …And I have served great King's of men, although I do not know what use they had for such a small hobbit."

"I think you have been of more worth to them than you give yourself credit for, Pippin," Legolas answered softly, lifting Pippin's hand with his own as he leaned forward to place his elbows on the bed. He pressed a kiss against the delicate hand before gazing softly at Pippin.

"All of you, Merry, Sam, Frodo, and you… You have all shown the whole world that it doesn't matter if you're small or if you have lived all of your days in peace without any training or instruction… you can still have courage and you can still fight for what you believe in and you can win," Legolas told him. Pippin's eyes were fixed on his, their depths peaceful. "That is of more worth than anything."

A happy, but somewhat bashful, smile appeared on Pippin's lips at those words. For a moment he seemed to gather energy before he asked, his voice slightly mumbled, "…Do you think I will see them again? Frodo and Sam? …Do you think I will see Merry?"

Legolas felt as tears welled up in his eyes and blinked rapidly to stop them from spilling down his cheeks. It was almost like saying goodbye to an elfling, having someone this young die before him… Pippin seemed to be at peace, but he couldn't understand it… couldn't understand why someone so young could die…

"Are you scared?" Legolas found himself asking, his voice small.

"I was, once," Pippin whispered. "But then Gandalf told me… He said that death is just another path …one that all must take. He said that it would lead me through silver glass, over white shores and beyond… to a far green country under a swift sunrise…" A smile curved upon Pippin's pale lips. "I'm just going on my next great adventure, …although I will have to start a revolution if there is no pipeweed."

A chuckle was startled from Legolas' lips at those words even as tears left glistening tracks down his cheeks. "…I'm sure that Merry will be there as well, waiting to start the revolution with you," he told him in a choked voice.

"…He also said…" Pippin breathed weakly. "That not all tears are an evil… He as very clever, wasn't he? The old wizard. Gandalf the Grey… Maybe I'll see him as well, I'm sure he'll start the revolution with us."

"Who knows what will happen…" Legolas said softly, moving from the chair to the bed so he could brush his fingers gently through the hobbit's grey curls. "It's another adventure for Peregrin Took of the Shire… And we both know that you don't need to know the destination to go on the journey…"

"Aye…" Pippin responded, his voice so soft now that Legolas could barely hear it. "I do believe that this 'Fool of a Took' is ready for another adventure…" A weak smile played on Pippin's lips even as his green eyes looked brightly into his. "…Maybe I'll even meet your wife…"

Legolas felt his throat tighten at those words, tears once more stinging in his eyes. Blinking roughly, a moment or two passed before he was able to choke out, "…If you do… then tell her hello from me… won't you?"

"…Oh I'll tell her… exactly what mischief… you've been up to…" Pippin breathed a playful glint in his half-lidded eyes. His eyes slid completely shut as a few weak coughs were startled from his lips. His breathing rattled inside his chest.

Legolas continued to comb his finger's gently through Pippin's hair, ignoring the fact that his hand was trembling slightly as he sought to soothe his friend. He didn't have the count on how many bedsides he had sat beside and watched as friends and brother-in-arms slowly faded away, how many he had soothed and brought peace to in the final moments of their lives…

Despite the fact that he felt he could barely say anything for the lump in his throat, he began gently singing the same lullaby his mother had sung to him when he had been little, the same lullaby he himself had sung to the twins when they had been babies. His voice wavered at first, but slowly it grew clearer and steadier as he watched a peaceful expression appear on Pippin's pale face, watched as his breathing became less painful, but still continuously weaker.

" _Holta hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _I-Súrë wáya i telda foa_

 _I-arauca uin sire tulië sérën_

 _Cainë nún i-lass uin túra amaldar_

 _Holta hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _Lenna ana fúmë"_

" _Holta hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _I-Anar yallumë serin hendirya_

 _Sin i isil síla telpë calima_

 _Samtyë i-silmë tana tiëtya_

 _Holta hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _Lenna ana fúmë"_

" _Holta hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _I-nóri o olori dartha an le_

 _Varië quenti o cîr ar eleni ar estel_

 _Sívëtya tiruvan mi hondo-ninya_

 _Hotya hendilya, lissë ninya_

 _Lenna ana fúmë"_

 _An tiruvan le, tiruvan le_

He continued singing softly even as Pippin's expression smoothed over in sleep, continued singing even as his breathing continued to weaken and wane, continued even as it finally came to a stop, uncaring of the tears that rolled down his cheeks as his continued threading his fingers through his little friend's hair.

Finally, there were no more verses and no more words so he just sat numbly by Pippin's side, as though he had frozen in the spot. No doubt they could hear his silence from the other side of the door, because only a moment passed before it opened and Aragorn, Arwen, and Glorfindel stepped inside.

They stayed silent as they walked in, Aragorn moving to Pippin's side and sitting down on the bed. He placed his hand over the hobbit's heart for a moment before nodding. "He's gone," he said softly.

Legolas startled somewhat out of his daze, turning empty eyes to the King. If one looked closely enough, they would be able to see faint wrinkles appearing around Aragorn's eyes, mouth, and forehead. Just as they would be able to see the strands of silver that were beginning to show more and more in his black hair.

He was going to lose him as well…

Numbly, Legolas got to his feet and made to go towards the door when Glorfindel blocked his path and placed his fingers underneath his chin, lifting his head until he was forced to look into his vivid blue eyes.

Glorfindel glowed so brightly… his aura enlarged from being reborn onto the undying lands. Legolas felt like he was in the halfway point between him and Aragorn, who barely had an aura… felt like he was sinking further and further towards mortality as his once strong aura continued to fade.

Where did he belong now?

"Legolas?" Glorfindel asked concerned, having no idea of the thoughts that were spinning endlessly inside his head.

He couldn't stay here.

"Leave me alone…"

The words left his lips before he had thought them through and he cursed himself for the hurt that flashed momentarily through Glorfindel's eyes. "Sorry. Just… just give me a moment alone."

Glorfindel searched his eyes before nodded and releasing him even as he stepped out of his path. Legolas gave him a smile that must have come out more like a grimace as moved past him and left the room, diverting his eyes from the sorrow he would no doubt find in Arwen's compassionate, silver eyes.

For a long time, he wandered the hallways of the King's house in Minas Tirith blindly, lost in his own mind. Inevitably, he soon found himself in one of the snow-clad gardens, following the sound of the gentle murmuring of an old apple tree in the back. As soon as he entered the garden, though, his gaze was drawn to a short person sitting on one of the stone benches by a bush covered in snow.

Gimli's red hair had turned slightly metallic as well; grey strands would soon overrule the red. Legolas felt his mouth dry out even more than it already had been as anxiety gripped his heart. He didn't know if he could take anymore…

Just as he was about to turn around and run in the other direction, he heard a cough and saw Gimli slump together slightly, coughing into his hand. Immediately, Legolas felt like he couldn't breathe even as his body made a mad dash towards his friend, moving even before he had even registered it completely.

As he kneeled before Gimli, however, his friend already stopped coughing and looked up at him with a lifted eyebrow. Gimli's lips curved into a smile when he saw who it was, although his eyes also showed sorrow as he realized what it most likely meant.

"So he is gone then…?" Gimli asked roughly. He was wrapped in several cloaks and thick tunics to keep warm in the winter weather.

Not trusting himself to speak, Legolas just nodded even as his eyes continued to search his friend anxiously. There were flushes on Gimli's cheeks as well as a faint trembling of his body. When he placed his palm against his friend's forehead and cheek, he could feel the heat that emanated from him.

"You're sick…" Legolas whispered hoarsely.

Gimli coughed into his hand and sniffled loudly before answering him. "It's nothing serious, Laddie. Just a cold, nothing to bother yourself with."

Legolas' eyes didn't lose any of their anxiousness and it only intensified when Gimli coughed into his hand once more. The only thing he could think about was that Gimli could be dying… Elves didn't get sick… how serious was a cold to mortals? Could this kill him? Was he too old to weather an illness? How frail were dwarves?

"You need to see Aragorn," Legolas croaked, anxiously beginning to tug Gimli to his feet. The dwarf resisted his attempts, though, batting his hands away.

"I've already seen him," Gimli tried to reassure the panicked elf. "He agrees with me. It's just a cold, not enough to lock me in a bed but enough to keep me from spending too much time with Pippin, so I wouldn't make him sicker. Just give it a day or two and I will be fit as a fiddle again."

Legolas stared at his friend with widened eyes, unable to lay aside his fear and panic. Gimli squeezed his hand before slowly pulling them away from the bruising grip they had on the dwarf's clothes. He then reached out to cup Legolas' cheek, and it was only then that Legolas realized that tears had begun trailing down from his eyes once more.

The surface of his friend's hand felt rough against his cheek, the touch comforting and warm.

Soon it would be gone as well…

Jerking away from the hand, Legolas lurched to his feet, walking almost drunkenly towards the apple tree at the end of the garden.

Worried, Gimli was about to get to his feet as well when a hand landed on his shoulder. He looked back and his eyes immediately locked on an unfamiliar elf, his green eyes fixed on Legolas' form. When Legolas sunk down in the snow by the apple tree, the green eyes turned to his, giving him a cheerful grin despite the fact that there was worry and sadness in his emerald eyes. The elf looked a great deal younger than Legolas, lighter and more cheerful, and yet there was something about the two of them that was similar.

"Let me go to him," the elf said as if he was talking to a friend. He patted Gimli's shoulder before walking towards Legolas. Gimli watched him carefully, not entirely certain about allowing this new elf to go to his friend when he was distressed. There was something inside him, though, that said that it would be all right.

As the unknown elf stepped up to Legolas, he knew that he had made the right decision. Legolas looked up as the elf kneeled beside him and barely a second passed before he threw his arms around him, clutching him tightly.

* * *

Translation of lullaby:

Close thy eyes, my sweet

The wind blows the last breath

The rushing of the river has come to peace

Lay down below the leaves of the great trees

Close thy eyes, my sweet

Go to sleep

·

Close thy eyes, my sweet

The sun at last rests her eyes

Now the moon shines silver bright

You have the starlight to show your path

Close thy eyes, my sweet

Go to sleep

·

Close thy eyes, my sweet

The lands of dreams wait for you

Weaving tales of ships and stars and hope

Thy peace I will guard within my heart

Close thy eyes, my sweet

Go to sleep

For I will watch over you, I will watch over you


	19. Mortality

**Chapter nineteen - Mortality**

As he neared him, he could see Legolas hugging himself tightly, shaking and trembling with tears rolling down his cheeks. He seemed impossibly pale and lost as he sat under the tree, fear and agitation leaking from him in waves.

"Legolas," he called softly as he kneeled beside him, not bothered by the coldness of the snow that covered the ground.

Legolas' head snapped up and he looked at him with widened eyes, before abruptly throwing his arms around him and holding him tightly. The force of the hug made him fall back, but he paid no attention to that as he wrapped his arms around Legolas just as tightly, now sitting in the snow with Legolas resting against his chest.

"Kirion…" Legolas choked into the fabric of his little brother's shoulder.

Kirion tightened his arms around him, brushing his hand over his brother's hair as he whispered, "Now, now brother, I know that you are happy to see me, but there is no need to cry."

Legolas choked out mixture between a laugh and a sob, but couldn't stop his tears as he continued to clutch his little brother to him. Kirion's familiar scent and aura washed over him, consistent and unchanging just as it had been for over five hundred years…

Kirion didn't say anything more, just tightened his arms reassuringly around his brother, resting his cheek against the top of his head. He brushed one of his hands softly up and down Legolas back, trying to still the trembles that rolled constantly through him even as his tunic began to dampen on the shoulder his brother was leaning against.

"Shh…" Kirion shushed soothingly, the sound little more than a windy whisper. He murmured softly to him. The words held little meaning but still served their purpose as Legolas' trembling began to ease up after a while, and he slumped boneless against him instead.

Seeing that they weren't far from the trunk of the apple tree, Kirion scooted slightly to his left, pulling Legolas with him until he could lean back against the tree with his brother held securely against his chest, shielding him from as much of the snow as possible. It was frightening how exhausted and worn out Legolas seemed at that moment, almost like he was holding a fading body.

His gift wasn't as powerful as his brother's, but Kirion could hear the apple tree behind them moaning and reaching out desperately towards Legolas in an attempt to soothe and comfort him.

When his brother had come home from the war and first told him about the fellowship and everything that had happened, this had been his biggest fear… Watching Legolas lose friend after friend when he was barely holding himself above water.

"What are you doing here, Kirion…?" Legolas whispered, his voice numb and exhausted. There was a slight, shaky hoarseness to it that gave witness to his grief and tears.

Kirion turned his head and placed a gentle kiss against his brother's hair before snuggling Legolas closer to him. "I just followed my brotherly instincts," Kirion answered softly. "I was going to go visit you in Ithilien and stay with you for a year, but as I rode past Minas Tirith something pulled me to the city. …After I realized that it was you I set about infiltrating the citadel and the King's house under the noses of the guards. …I heard the city talking about what happened to Pippin… I'm so sorry, Legolas."

Legolas shuddered in his arms so Kirion squeezed him tightly once more. Valar, there was a time when he wouldn't have gotten away with holding Legolas like he was now in public… There was a time when Legolas would never show this much emotion outside the walls of his own room…

Kirion knew his brother better than most, and he knew how broken Legolas would have to be to not care about such things anymore. To not care about the fact that he was showing weakness…

He looked down at his brother, tilting his head so he could see his face. There were wet tear tracks trailing down Legolas' pale cheeks and his eyes held a dark color of despair even as they looked blankly into space. Gently, Kirion reached out and smoothed his thumb over the furrow between Legolas' brows, soothingly stroking his fingers over his brother's forehead and eyebrows as he began to hum under his breath.

Slowly, Legolas eyes fluttered closed and his expression became relaxed as his breathing deepened. Kirion kept humming and caressing him in an attempt to keep any nightmares at bay and soothe him gently into sleep. He knew his brother well, knew that he was at the end of his rope and needed someone to stay with him, so he made himself comfortable against the tree, his eyes focusing on the snowflakes that were drifting slowly down from the sky.

That was, until footsteps nearing his position made him look up once more. Gimli was walking towards them, his eyes sad and worried. Kirion could see that the dwarf was not entirely well and knew that this was what had scared Legolas so much since, from what Legolas had told him, Gimli was a great friend of his.

"Who are ya', laddie?" Gimli asked gruffly as he stopped before them, his eyes searched Legolas' form before turning to him.

"I am his younger brother," Kirion answered him softly without stopping the soothing caresses of his fingers. "My name is Kirion, Master Dwarf, and I know that yours is Gimli, son of Gloin. Legolas has told me of you."

Gimli's body visibly relaxed at those words and he gave him a small smile, one that could not quite block out the worry in his expression. "…Is he all right?" he asked before sniffling mildly so he wouldn't wake Legolas.

"I have no doubt that he will survive," Kirion responded his voice suddenly deepening and showing how old he truly was as his worry for his brother and his sadness welled into it. "But I cannot say that he is all right, Master Gimli, when I know that this was another blow to his already failing spirit."

Gimli looked stricken by those words, he opened his mouth to say something but was forced to stop as another set of coughs rattled his chest. Kirion gently reached down to cup Legolas' pointed ears in an attempt to make sure that he wasn't woken by the sound.

Once Gimli had finished coughing, he cleared his throat before trying again. "Is there anything I can do to help him?" he asked.

Kirion's eyes softened as he listened to Gimli, when he was done he turned his gaze to his brother, running his finger over the snowflakes that had fallen onto Legolas' hair and eyelashes. "You know… My brother has seen a lot of death in his life. Been with a lot of friends and comrades as they drew their last breath."

Kirion looked up at him with clear, strong eyes. "But he has never been friends with mortals, not the way he has become with all from the fellowship. He has ben kind and polite to those who treated him the same, and he has struck back against those who has attacked him without cause, but to my knowledge he has never given any of them his trust.

"…Now he suddenly has so many friends, whom he trusts and cares about deeply. For the first time he has been forced to acknowledge and experience mortality, and it scares him. It scares him because it isn't something that can be fought, it isn't determined by whether or not someone has been careful or if he is protecting someone's back. …He can protect your backs with every ounce of his strength, but he cannot fight back this enemy. …He cannot prevent you from leaving him and going somewhere that he cannot follow."

Gimli's eyes were pained, but Kirion could also see that the dwarf had already been aware of this. Of course he would be if he had spent as much time with Legolas as he had…

"Death is not something to be fought, lad," Gimli said softly. "It is laying down to rest after a long journey. It is natural…"

"You know that," Kirion pointed out gently. "You have lived your whole life knowing that it will not last forever and that death, in the end, is a friend not an enemy. You will grow old, Gimli, your body will not function as it once did and in the end death will no longer be scary… But Legolas will stay forever young, watching ever as the world changes. …The life of mortals has always seemed so infinitely short…"

Kirion was silent for a moment before saying, "My brother has fought the deaths of those around him all of his life, and it scares him that this time there is nothing he can do to stop it."

"…Which is why we should take care of ourselves," Aragorn's voice sounded from behind them.

Gimli and Kirion looked up to see Glorfindel and Aragorn stepping up to them. Apparently, they had been listening for a while. Glorfindel's eyes were trained on Legolas' form and he moved forward to sit beside Kirion in the snow as he pulled his cloak from his shoulders and spread it over Legolas' form. Then he looked up and smiled in greeting to Legolas' younger brother. Kirion returned the smile as he continued to stroke his brother's forehead and hair.

"You should not be out in the cold for so long when you are ill, my friend," Aragorn said, giving Gimli a stern look. "I refuse to allow you to let yourself become sicker while Legolas is here to watch it."

Gimli narrowed his eyes and looked down with a harrumph, only to look back a moment later waving his finger towards Aragorn. "Now see here, Laddie, there is no need to resort to such underhand tactics to coerce me to swallow your vile medicines. We dwarves are hardy folk, we survive just fine without anyone fussing over us." Aragorn was about to say something but Gimli raised his hand to stop him. "However, if it can soothe a certain elfling then I will allow you to do your worst."

A smile tugged at the corners of Aragorn's lips as he responded, "Then I am most grateful. When we leave here, I will burry you under a mound of blankets in your bed, stroke your fire, and have you drink tea just as you would ale."

Gimli scowled fiercely but didn't say anything other than mutter under his breath. Nevertheless, his eyes locked on Legolas and the displeasure in them softened to worry. Kirion grinned widely at the dwarf.

"And who are you then?"

Kirion looked up, his grin not entirely fading despite the fact that he was trying to pull off a completely innocent expression.

"I would have though that if someone, especially an unknown elf, had entered my house I would have been informed of the event," Aragorn said, an eyebrow arched.

The grin slowly won out and Kirion answered, "I may or may not have gained entrance by unconventional means…" The amusement in his eyes faded somewhat, though, and was replaced by respect and warmth as he bowed his head and said, "May a star shine upon your path nevertheless, King Elessar; and guide you towards fairness even as it shows you joy. My name is Kirion Thranduilion, second Prince of the woodland realm of Eryn Lasgalen, younger brother of one whom you have already met and befriended."

Aragorn's eyes softened at Kirion's greeting and he returned it in full, placing his palm over his heart as he gave Legolas' brother a traditional elven greeting before saying, "My city and my house is welcome to you then, Kirion, brother of Legolas. I hope we can get to know each other in the days ahead, and I would appreciate it if you told my guards exactly how you managed to bypass them all."

Kirion nodded so Aragorn knelt down in the snow beside him, his eyes trained on Legolas' pale form. Reaching out, he placed his fingers against his pulse before holding his hand in front of his mouth to monitor his breathing and checking his forehead and neck for a fever.

"You should bring him inside," Aragorn told them softly, taking care not to wake the sleeping elf. "Glorfindel knows where his room is."

"We'll stay out here with him for a while longer," Kirion contradicted gently. "Legolas sleeps more comfortably under the sky… We'll monitor his temperature and pulse, keep him warm enough and make sure that he is all right, but I fear that moving him will bring nothing to him but nightmares."

"I agree," Glorfindel murmured, reaching out to tuck the cloak in around Legolas. He looked up at Kirion and smiled to him as he said, "If necessary, we'll stay out here with him through the night and far into next morning."

"I'll tell the gardeners to dig you out with shovels sometimes tomorrow then," Aragorn said in jest as he rose to his feet once more. Gimli's muffled coughs behind him urged him into action. "Right now, I need to get a stubborn dwarf in bed and get some herbs into him before he thinks about complaining."

Aragorn placed his hand on Gimli's shoulder as began to lead him away. He turned back to them, however, after just a few steps, his expression sober. "Pippin is going to be buried the day after tomorrow, beside Merry by the tombs of the Kings of Gondor, for I can think of no greater honor to bestow upon him."

Kirion and Glorfindel both inclined their heads in response and watched as Aragorn shepherded the grumbling dwarf inside.

O

"What are you doing here, Kirion?" Glorfindel asked as the garden quieted around them, watching with a soft expression in his eyes as Kirion gently ran his fingers over Legolas' forehead, eyebrows, and hair in an attempt to soothe him.

"Everything has been quiet in Eryn Lasgalen," Kirion answered softly without taking his attention off his brother. "Celeborn and most of his people have moved out of the southern woods and journeyed to the havens. Men, and Beorn's people, have taken over the parts of the forest that we do not occupy, slowly forgetting our existence until we elves are no more than fairy tales told to children.

"They leave us in peace and we are in peace with them. The forest is too large for what few of us are left and my father can easily govern our people alone in this peace. The days where he needed both Legolas and I are long past." Kirion gave Glorfindel a smile. "So I've come for a visit and plan on staying for at least a year. I was riding past Minas Tirith when I felt something pull me to the city and when I realized that it was Legolas I tore through the city to get to him."

Glorfindel looked down, his eyes shining with guilt. "I knew that it was a bad idea to leave him alone after Pippin died… but he-"

Kirion placed his hand on Glorfindel's shoulder to stop him, Glorfindel's eyes jerking up to meet with Kirion's emerald ones. "He will never willingly let you hover over him and smother him... If I know my brother right then he would have needed a moment or two alone it gather his thoughts. I believe he would have been able to manage if he hadn't met Gimli and seen that his friend was sick the exact same time he had just lost Pippin, but what can you do…" He shrugged.

They sat in comfortable silence after that, watching as the snowflakes slowly drifted down from the sky and landed on and around them. The only ones they bothered to brush off were the ones that landed on Legolas, as they both were impervious to the cold. Legolas was to some extent at least, but his ability was reduced as he weakened.

"How is he, Glorfindel?" Kirion asked after a while, his voice sober.

"He is holding on…" Glorfindel sighed. "Trying to force himself to eat and sleep and live despite nightmares and raging thoughts. Alfirin and I sleep over at his house when we can see that he's having a bad day, but sometimes the nightmares are too relentless for us to prevent so we can only try to comfort him afterwards as he throws up or draws into himself…"

"Are they why he has lost weight?"

Glorfindel nodded in response. "He isn't giving up, though. He's trying as hard as he can to keep himself healthy, especially for Naruvir and Caladel. …When things are really rough I sometimes ask him if it wouldn't be better to sail, but he doesn't want to leave the twins and Maliel. …There are so many that he doesn't want to leave, and I don't think he dares to believe that there is anyone waiting for him there."

"I fear he lost that belief a long time ago," Kirion said softly as he leaned down, brushing Legolas' hair away and pressing a kiss against his temple. "…He will stay until there is nothing left on Middle Earth for him to stay for, and it will be up to us to decide when that is."

And so they sat in silent vigil once more, monitoring Legolas' sleep and temperature until at last they were forced to carry him inside when the snow began to build around them as evening approached. They tucked him into the bed in the room he usually slept in while in Minas Tirith, and Kirion stripped out of his cold outer layers to slip in beside him, turning onto his side and reaching out to place a hand on his elder brother's chest so he would know if anything disturbed his rest.

"I'll watch over him tonight, Glorfindel," Kirion said quietly, his emerald eyes looking calmly up into blue, tracking the faint shadows underneath them. "I can see that you are tired as well."

Glorfindel gave Kirion a smile before turning his gaze to Legolas, searching him for any signs that he was nearing consciousness or having a nightmare. Finding nothing, he leaned down and pressed his lips briefly against his forehead.

As he turned to leave, though, Kirion called out to him. "Glorfindel."

He turned and looked back at him, Kirion smiled sadly to him. "Thank you for looking after him."

"My pleasure," Glorfindel responded softly, returning the smile. He then walked out and closed the door behind him, leaving the two brothers alone.

O

"Oh he's so sweet when he's sleeping," came a girlish whisper from his left, no doubt she was trying to be quiet with minimal success.

"Shh, Ellairë." A male voice came softly, sounding older than the girl. "Don't wake him up."

"I think he's coming to," now it was Kirion's voice talking. A body shifted to his right and suddenly a hand touched his cheek, fingers slowly brushing over it. "Legolas, it's about time you wake up."

Drawing away from sleep was like coming out of a long tunnel, the wheels in his mind gradually beginning to turn once more until he was able to put a face to each voice he heard.

His eyes seemed to have glued themselves shut and his mouth felt as dry as sand, so dry that it was impossible for any words to leave his lips even as he tried to form them. Suddenly, the hand on his cheek moved to the back of his head and lifted it, his lips met a solid rim and just like that blessedly cool water was tipped into his mouth. He gulped at it, draining the glass quickly enough for Kirion to produce a chuckle.

As he was lowered back onto the pillow he found the strength to force his eyes open, blinking to make the grit in them disappear. Immediately, the emerald eyes of his little brother met him.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, brother," Kirion greeted him with a soft smile.

"How-" His voice came out as a croak and he was forced to clear it before trying again, "How long have I slept?"

"A day and a half," Kirion answered, looking out the window. "It is the day after you arrived in Minas Tirith, sometime between lunch and dinner."

"I was going to come wake you a long time ago, but Ada and Nana wouldn't let me come." Legolas rolled his head on the pillow until his eyes met the innocent, silver eyes of Ellairë who was sitting on the bed by his side, her long, hazel hair brushed behind her shoulders so it didn't get in the way as she gesticulated enthusiastically in time with her child-like babbling.

"I kept telling them 'Uncle Lass hasn't even come to say hello to me yet and he always remembers to come say hello to me, so this time I should say hello to him instead', but they still wouldn't let me come see you! And you've been asleep for soooo long…" she whined, her lips drawing into an endearing pout. "I didn't know it was possible for someone to sleep so long… Nana never let's me sleep this long!"

Legolas could barely stop himself from laughing as his lips curved into a wide smile in response to the stream of words coming from Aragorn and Arwen's second youngest daughter.

Ellairë sent him an adorable glare when she saw his smile and looked away from him, her pout deepening as she began to swing her legs back and forth where they hung over the side of the bed, still not tall enough to reach the floor. "If Nana and Ada had their way then I wouldn't be here at all, but 'Darion is sneaking all of us in… You mustn't tell anyone, though… I made him promise not to tell anyone otherwise he wouldn't let me come…"

"And I'm beginning to regret that decision since you obviously can't keep a promise with all of your babbling. I swear, Ellairë, that you are going to make Uncle Legolas regret waking up if you continue to talk his ear off." A hand landed on Ellairë's head and tussled up her hair before she could jerk away. She shrieked though and quickly scrambled up the bed until she had latched herself around Legolas' neck.

With a chuckle, he drew her into his embrace as he looked up at the perpetrator. Eldarion stood beside his bed, grinning at him. Dark curls framed his youthful face and his grey eyes shone with fond amusement even as he rolled them in mock irritation. In his arms he held his youngest sister and Legolas felt his heart melt just at the sight of her.

Somehow Celebrian's silver hair had skipped a generation and made an appearance in Arwen's youngest daughter. Lassiel had silver curls and large, argent eyes. She was sucking her thumb as she rested against her big brother's chest, but when she saw him looking her she smiled toothily and reached out towards him.

Immediately, Eldarion set her down on his chest. She wobbled slightly as she tried to find her balance and her small hands reached out to grab his cheeks, one of them wet and sticky. He wrapped his free arm around her small form.

"Leg'las!" the toddler grinned, patting his cheeks sweetly. In just little over a month she would be turning a year old. He had been here when she had been born, and had been shocked when Arwen and Aragorn had told him that they had decided to name her after him. The moment she had been placed in his arms though, he had been completely and utterly lost.

"Why hello there precious," he smiled to her, unbothered by the wet hand on his cheek. He pushed himself further up in the bed, the arms he had wrapped around Lassiel and Ellairë pulling them with him until Lassiel laid on her stomach on his chest and Ellairë rested against his side with her head on his shoulder.

"And good morning to you Ellairë," he chuckled, turning his head to press a kiss against her forehead. She gave him a beaming smile, her lightly freckled, apple cheeks flushing slightly. He turned his gaze to Minas Tirith's Crown Prince, "And to Eldarion."

"You're crazy to think that it is morning still, Uncle," Eldarion said wryly as he sat down on the bed.

"It's always morning right after you've woken up," Legolas told him with a glint in his eyes. "Isn't that right, Lassiel?"

Lassiel looked up at him from playing with his hair when she heard her name, her argent eyes looking inquisitively into his before she just nodded her head with a bright smile upon her lips before going back to playing with his hair.

He looked up at Eldarion with a grin, "See?"

Eldarion snorted in amusement. "Now you have me convinced."

"I'm convinced," Kirion's voice came. Legolas glanced to his right and saw Kirion sprawled out on the bed beside him, a lazy expression on his face.

Before he could say anything, however, Ellairë's voice came from right beside him. "Is it true that he is your brother, Uncle Lass? I didn't know that you had a brother." She looked up at him with curious eyes.

"I do have a brother, a little brother," Legolas told her, ignoring Kirion's 'I resent that'. "I also have a little sister, but she has already sailed far over the sea."

"You won't sail away, too, will you?" Ellaurë demanded, her eyes suddenly anxious as they stared innocently into his.

Legolas couldn't make his mouth form any words, despite the water he had almost just drank it once more felt like it was covered in dry sand as he stared into those eyes, eyes that begged him to stay forever …to never leave. The sea suddenly roared in his ears, seagulls sounding on the breeze despite how far they were from the wide waters, a deep aching and longing grinding itself into his chest and heart.

He felt more than saw Kirion jerk himself into sitting position by his side but before his little brother could say anything he forced his dry mouth to form words. "Not for a while yet, little one," he whispered. "Not for a while yet."

Ellairë opened her mouth to say something more but before she could, Eldarion intervened. "Come 'lairë," he said softly as he swung her into his arms and kissed her cheek before setting her down on her feet. "If we don't go now then we'll be late for our lessons." He made a move to take Lassiel as well but froze when he saw that she had fallen peacefully asleep against her favorite Uncle's chest.

Legolas felt some of the pain inside his chest lessen and the roaring in his ears dim as he looked down upon her peaceful face. "It's about time for her nap, isn't it…?" he asked softly, unable to draw his eyes away as he reached out to gently brush her silver curls away from her face.

"Yes, it is," Eldarion responded with a smile, drawing back once more and gently taking Ellairë's hand. "I'll let Nana know that you have her. We'll see you later, Uncle, when you've rested some more."

"Bye…" Legolas told them and gave them a small wave before Eldarion shut the door behind them, his voice already beginning softly as he spoke to his little sister. Legolas let his hand fall lifelessly to the bed as the door fell shut behind them. A hollow feeling worming its way into his chest once more.

A soft palm coming to rest against his cheek broke him out of his stupor and he jerked his head around only to come face to face with his younger brother, Kirion's green eyes looking into his with soft concern and understanding. Blinking his eyes back into focus, he could not recall how long it had been since the door had closed behind Eldarion and Ellairë, but he could no longer hear them.

His heart felt tight inside his chest and he almost couldn't breathe as Kirion's green eyes blurred through the tears that welled up in his eyes. "I can't do this anymore…" he choked anguished, closing his eyes and falling into Kirion's embrace when his little brother hurriedly leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him. "I can't…"

"I know," Kirion whispered, gently brushing his fingers through Legolas' hair. His brother trembled in his arms even as he held on tightly to little Lassiel, who was sleeping on his chest, like he was afraid that she would disappear if he let her go.

There was nothing he could say to comfort his brother, because the only thing that would bring him peace was the reassurance that no more were going to leave him, and saying so would be a lie… both of them knew that. There was no force on earth that could stop time from taking the last mortals that Legolas had befriended the past years, as it already had Éomer, Merry, and now Pippin.

A knock on the door made Kirion lift his gaze, but he didn't let go of his brother even as the oaken door opened softly to reveal King Elessar. Aragorn paused briefly in the doorway, his expression saddening at the scene before him, but then he wordlessly walked forward and sat down on the other side of Legolas', placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Eldarion told me that you were awake and that Lassiel was with you," Aragorn said softly. He cast a look downwards and smiled when he saw his daughter safely cocooned against Legolas' chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her. The smile was laced with sadness, however, because of the pain that was rolling off his dear friend in waves.

"Legolas?" he spoke gently, soothingly, in the same voice he would use with a wounded horse. "Will you not look at me?"

For a minute, he was sure that his friend would ignore his plea because Legolas pressed his face even tighter into Kirion's shoulder, his trembling increasing.

"Please, my friend…"

Then Legolas' shoulders slumped together in utter defeat. Slowly, he drew away from Kirion's shoulder, his eyes still averted. They were free of any tears but there was a haunted look in their sapphire depths that was even scarier. Out of the corner of his eyes, Aragorn saw the look of fierce worry and fear in Legolas' brother's eyes that had to be reflected in his own. Kirion tightened his arms around Legolas even as Aragorn reached out and tilted Legolas' head towards him, meeting the dark eyes squarely.

"…Legolas?" Aragorn whispered. "What is on your mind?"

The haunted blankness in Legolas' didn't disappear in response to the question. Instead, Aragorn watched as Legolas' focus was drawn slightly to the side. Aragorn looked sideways as well when his friend suddenly reached out and brushed his fingers over the silvery hair that fell down to Aragorn's shoulder.

Aragorn reached up and took Legolas' hand in his, drawing it away and rubbing his thumb comfortingly over its surface. "Legolas?" he asked once more, trying to break him out of his stupor.

"…Commander," Kirion's voice came hesitantly. Immediately, Legolas' eyes returned somewhat to alertness and he jerked his head around to meet his brother's eyes, his old title snapping him back into awareness like nothing else could.

With a sad expression, Legolas' little brother reached out and brushed his fingers over Legolas' cheek. "Captain… Legolas, come back. …Aragorn, Gimli, Faramir, Lassiel, Ellairë, Eldarion, Arwen, Èowyn… They are all still here. Look…" he said and directed Legolas' attention down towards the little child sleeping against his chest, her thumb resting by her parted lips. Kirion gently caressed her silver curls. "She is still so small."

Legolas gazed upon the little toddler and slowly shifted so that she was more comfortable even as he reached out, his fingers ghosting over her small hand and rosy cheek.

Aragorn, understanding what Kirion was trying to do, also spoke. "Gimli is going to be all right as well," he reassured him. "It is just a small cold. I've already given him medicine and told him to stay in bed for the day just so he is recovered completely in time for Pippin's funeral. He is too stubborn to give in to a small illness, you know that just as well as I."

Legolas tried to smile at the jest but it came out weak and pitiful. In the end, he just let it fade and leaned back into his brother's embrace, resting his head against his shoulder and gazing into nothingness.

"When is the funeral…?" he murmured.

"Tomorrow," Aragorn answered softly. "But Legolas," he waited until he had Legolas focus once more, a pang going through his heart when he saw Legolas desperately trying to hide his pain through walls so thin that they were ready to shatter at even the slightest brush of wind. "You do not have to be there… Pippin wouldn't have wanted you to come if he knew how much it hurt you. Besides, it's only going to be a small gathering with what friends he has in this city and us. You-"

Legolas shook his head to cut him off. "I will be there," he said pained. "I will pay my last respects to him.

Kirion could see the look in Legolas' eyes; it was one that he had seen too many times over the course of his long years. It was the look that Legolas bore when despite of grief, or wounds, or exhaustion, he got up from bed, pulled on his clothes, and attended to funeral after funeral of those who had died under his command or otherwise. The look he bore when he watched his friends and brothers-in-arms being sunk into the ground and buried, whilst stoically bearing the weight of the families' grief and burying his own in an attempt to comfort them.

And so, Legolas attended the funeral as Pippin was put to rest in the crypt where the old Kings and Queens of Gondor lay buried, his small body laid to rest beside that of his friend and partner-in-crime, Meriadoc Brandybuck. The hollow feeling inside his chest never seemed to lessen even as he pretended that he was all right.

Because there was nothing they could say that would help him.

There was nothing anyone could do to stop the bitterness of mortality.


	20. The cries of the gulls

**Chapter twenty – The cries of the gulls**

 _The 82nd year of the Forth Age. Caladel and Naruvir are eighty-four years old._

Water gently lapped against the shore of the lake, as he stood watching on the bank. It sloshed to and fro, carried by the wind that swept over the clear surface and pushed it ever forwards. In his chest, the melody it made was pounding endlessly, mixing with the sound of the cries of white gulls until it was one big, raging inferno of longing and pain that took his breath away with every beat.

No longer could the voices of the trees drown out the crying of the sea…

His breath short, Legolas flung off his tunic upon the leafy shore and plunged into the water, beating his arms into its surface in long strokes as he swam towards deeper waters. Every purpose he had was drowned by the roaring in his ears and the cries of the gulls, which only sounded louder in the water that enclosed him.

Gasping a breath, he propelled himself downwards, the water closing over his head as he dived into the depths of the lake. And suddenly, everything was quiet… His breath and heartbeat no longer roared in his ears and the cries of the gulls were left above water; the ranging inferno reduced to the gentle moving of the water all around him as it swayed back and forth in gentle movements… But there, perhaps, the longing inside his chest grew even more unbearable, called forth by this gentle peace and stillness instead of hopeless chaos…

 _To Legolas Thranduilion, Lord of Cirban Gilion and Guardion of Ithilien's forests,_

 _It is with great sadness that I write to inform you that late this night my father, Prince Faramir of Ithilien and Steward of Gondor, passed away in his sleep after a prolonged bout of illness that, in the end, he could not overcome. He passed peacefully in the presence of his children and grandchildren and was burdened by neither pain nor sorrow when the end drew near._

 _I know that my father always considered you among his greatest and most trusted friends and I hope that the friendship and alliance between our two realms will continue as I take over my father's rule as Prince of these lands. Emyn Arnen grieves the loss of its ruler and will put him to rest besides his Lady Éowyn five days hence to allow time for King Elessar of Gondor to reach the city._

 _As Lord of Cirban Gilion, and trusted friend of my father, you are likewise invited to my father's funeral and my coronation, which will take place two days after. Here I hope that we will have time to discuss the future relationship between our two realms. If you are unable to attend then I hope the future will grant us another opportunity to meet and any emissary that you wish to send will be welcomed just as warmly in these hard times._

 _Prince Elboron, son of Faramir._

The damned letter still lay upon the red and orange leaves that coated the shore, weighed down by a rock so that it would not fly away in the wind. The moment he had first held it in his hand, it had felt like the weight of a rock upon his palm. Emptiness had filled him like a void and he barely remembered the trip from his office to the lake.

Faramir was gone now…

Elrond, Gandalf, Galadriel, Frodo, Celeborn, Sam, Éomer, Merry, Pippin, Éowyn, and now Faramir…

All of it was supposed to have ended with the war.

All of this losing…

Legolas flipped over in the water, floating along the surface. He opened his eyes, squinting through the clear water of the lake. Beyond the slightly rippling surface, he could see the orange and red leaves on the branches of the trees that leaned over the river.

His chest began to burn from lack of air, but it was a good pain, pain that distracted him from the aching and longing in his heart. It seemed to have built up over the years until he could no longer hold it back.

The sun shone down upon him through the surface of the water and it seemed that his body had finally become numb to the coldness that surrounded him. Instead he felt the warmth of the sun upon his skin and he closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps it wasn't so bad down there, where the whole world was muted.

A loud splash suddenly jolted him in surprise and he gasped, only to come up spluttering as he drew in a mouthful of water. He hacked and coughed between gasps of air, which he could no longer stop himself from desperately drawing in, his head spinning with dizziness.

Only when he was somewhat recovered did he remember the noise that had startled him in the first place and jerked his head up. Immediately, his eyes locked onto ones of silver, widened with apprehension and fading panic as they stared into his. …Naruvir was standing knee-deep in the water, his boots and breeches darkening as they were drenched in it.

And for a long time, they just stared at each other. Drops of water rolling down Legolas' forehead and into his eyelashes.

"Granddad?" Naruvir finally called, his voice questioning and worried.

That sole word snapped him out of his daze quicker than anything else, and his breath sped up slightly once more as he realized what had almost happened, what he had almost done… In that moment, it seemed like he had been someone else for a while, looking back everything was hazy and blurred.

He had only wanted the noise to stop for a while. He hadn't wanted to kill himself. It wouldn't have come to that.

It wouldn't…

"Granddad, come ashore," Naruvir told him when he continued not to make a move, his silver eyes wide with worry.

Taking a shaky breath, Legolas forced his numb limbs to move as he slowly swam in Naruvir's direction. The raging inferno that he had heard before he had dived had become quiet once more, stopped by Naruvir's warm presence.

Soon the water became shallower until he was able to walk the last of the way up to his grandson. Naruvir was watching him attentively, his eyes anxious and sad as they searched him over. The moment that he reached him, Naruvir took his hand in a surprisingly gentle hold and began leading him towards the shore, almost like his grandson was waiting for him to fall apart.

When they were out of the water completely, Naruvir made him sit down upon the blanket of autumn leaves next to where he had thrown his shirt and left the letter. He didn't notice this though, his wavering attention divided between his grandson and the wide lake.

"You are ice cold…" Naruvir said worriedly, taking off his cloak and wrapping it tightly around Legolas' upper body, keeping his eyes averted respectfully. It was only when Legolas saw this, he realized that for the first time Naruvir must have seen most of the scars that marred his body, and he clutched the cloak tighter.

Naruvir didn't say anything, however, only moved his hair out from underneath the cloak and gently wrung access water out of it before brushing it over his shoulder so it wouldn't drip down his back anymore.

"What were you doing out here?" Naruvir asked anxiously.

"…Swimming." Legolas answered.

Naruvir snorted, the sad and desperate sort of snort. "With your boots on?"

It was first when he looked down that he realized that he did indeed have boots on and felt what weights they had become in their soaked state. He didn't know what to answer and Naruvir seemed to realize this because the only thing he did was lean down and untie the boots, before gently pulling them off of his feet and emptying them of water.

"…I hadn't noticed," Legolas whispered, sluggishly blinking the water out of his eyes. Suddenly, he felt bone-weary.

Naruvir's body froze for a second or two, but then he used a corner of his cloak to wipe the water off Legolas' face. "It's all right," he said gently. For a while, it was quiet between them, Legolas struggling not to let his eyes fall closed and Naruvir silently working to get him as dry as possible. Naruvir was the first to break the silence.

"I'm sorry, granddad…" he said softly. "I read the first lines of the letter. I know that Faramir was a dear friend of yours. …When I found your tunic, I thought… for a moment…" He trailed of uncertainly, a pained expression in his silver eyes.

"I didn't mean to worry you," Legolas responded.

"I know."

"It won't happen again."

"All right."

The silence was back after that.

"What brought you here anyway, Naruvir?" Legolas asked softly when he couldn't stand the silence between them anymore.

Naruvir jerked his attention up to him, looking at him with those wide, expressive silver eyes. They seemed to be swirling with so many emotions that it was impossible to make anything out of it. For a short moment, however, he glanced to the side and Legolas followed his gaze until it landed on the book that laid in the leaves beside the letter from Elboron.

It was his book. Its leathery cover was unmistakable.

"You finished it…" Legolas whispered, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable and exposed where he was sitting so he drew the cloak tighter around himself.

He remembered the moment when Naruvir finally managed to convince him to let him read it. …It wasn't often that his grandson showed his stubborn streak, but when he did it was almost certain that he wouldn't give up until he got what he wanted. Therefore, Naruvir had been working on him for years already when he had finally bent to his arguments.

" _You told me that you would allow me to read the book when I came up with a good enough reason for wanting to do so," Naruvir said as he threw himself into the seat in front of his grandfather. Legolas startled at his abrupt appearance, but soon managed to overcome his shock._

" _And you have given me many reasons over the years," he responded quietly, "but none has convinced me that it is necessary for you to read it. … It's my whole life in that book, Naru. It's harsh and there is no need for you to worry yourself about it."_

" _I know," Naruvir said. "I know that it is your whole life… and I know that it's a lot to ask, but…" He sighed and scratched his head before looking up at his grandfather again with determined eyes. "But through the years I've come to realize that it isn't only because of you that I want to read it… I also want to read it because I want to know what has been sacrificed to get us where we are today… And who have been sacrificed…_

" _I want to remember them, granddad. Not just as names on a tomb! I want to know what they were like and what drove them to sacrifice their lives in the fight for freedom. I want to remember camaraderie, and bravery, and grief, and fear… I will not let everything become lost in this peace and their sacrifices taken for granted. …I don't want to take this peace for granted, to forget to appreciate the small, seemingly unimportant, things like the sky being clear of clouds or the water running unpolluted around our city."_

 _Legolas was stunned to silence. Naruvir looked at him for a while, slightly out of breath, but then he stood up and turned away from his grandfather, holding on to the back of the chair with a vice-like grip._

" _I know that it is your whole life grandfather, but I also know that you knew so many people. So many who were fighting beside you… And I know that you would never take their sacrifices for granted, nor let them be forgotten." Naruvir sighed and paused for a moment. "I want to help you remember them …and I want to help_ you _in any way that I can. …I know that it contains your whole life and that it is harsh, brutal even, but it is_ your _life, and I want to be able to remember that, too."_

 _After that it was quiet for a long while between them. Finally, Naruvir sighed once more, thinking that his grandfather was going to refuse and took a step away from the table. A hand immediately reached out and grabbed a hold of his sleeve. Naruvir's silver gaze jerked back to the resigned eyes of his grandfather, but Legolas didn't say anything, just wordlessly steered him over to his wooden desk._

 _He opened one of the drawers and Naruvir's eyes widened even more at the sight of the leather-bound book in his grandfather's hand as he picked it up. He flicked his eyes up to Legolas' in surprise before reaching out and tracing the etched tree in the cover. It was a thick book, very thick._

" _It was a different world then, Naruvir," Legolas whispered hoarsely. Gently, he gave the book over to his grandson, passing on his legacy. "Do not judge anyone by what you find in it… and do not think that you have to carry it's weight on your own. If there is anything in it that you cannot handle on your own, then both your mother and father know of a lot of the events in the book. Maliel, naturally, knows everything."_

 _Naruvir opened and closed his mouth a few times before coming up with the words he wanted to say, as he clutched the book to his chest. "I won't betray your trust, granddad… I promise."_

"Granddad?" Naruvir's soft voice broke him out of his stupor.

Blinking rapidly, Legolas once again tightened his grip on the cloak covering him. He lifted his eyes to his grandson and found him kneeling before him on the autumn leaves, looking up at him open, grey eyes. They seemed to be filled with both sadness and love.

"I finished it," he confirmed gently.

Legolas' eyes fell to the ground, but a hand reaching out to cup his cheek forced him to look up and he met Naruvir's gaze.

"Hey," Naruvir said softly, with a smile upon his lips. "It's not all bad. I feel like I know grandmother now… Almost like I've known her my entire life. It wasn't difficult to tell how much she meant to you…"

Legolas' fingers involuntarily reached up to grasp the engagement ring that still hung on a chain around his neck. It was something that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep from doing whenever he thought of Faneth. …He never took it off.

"She would have loved you," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes distant but a small smile playing on his lips. "You and Caladel. …I see a lot of her in you, you know, both you and your brother. You both have her kindness, something your mother also inherited. And Faneth could be so uncommonly kind, but still in a snap turn into a fiery demon whenever something displeased her. Did I ever tell you that the first time she was officially introduced to your great-grandfather she had just finished yelling at him and threatening him?" A soft laugh escaped him

"No, you didn't," Naruvir smiled. He had read about it in the book, but Legolas had never openly spoken about Faneth with him.

"Well she had," Legolas continued. "…She was remarkably brave, your grandmother. She bore all of my burdens without a word of complaint. She welcomed me back home warmly even if she had spent the month terrified because I was out on patrol and constantly coming home wounded. She stood up to people on my behalf when I couldn't do so myself. …She raised Maliel in a time of war and devastation, doing so almost all by herself because I was drowning in work. And she never abandoned me, never left my side through any of it…" Legolas voice was slowly reduced to a whispered and he looked pained into his grandson's eyes as he said, "She wasn't a coward, Naru… _Never_ think of her as a coward."

Pain curled in the pit of Naruvir's stomach at those words and he struggled to blink away any tears as he nodded to his grandfather's words. "I promise."

"Good." Legolas closed his eyes and sunk slightly together, as if the conversation had drained what was left of his strength.

Naruvir looked around and caught sight of Legolas' tunic lying forgotten on the ground. Wordlessly, he stood up and retrieved it. Catching sight of the letter under the rock, he hesitated for a moment but then picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket before going back to his grandfather. "Here," he said. "Put this on and then we'll go back to the city, pack you up in some blankets so you can get warm again."

Legolas nodded even as his hand tightened around the cloth of the cloak that he held in a cramp-like grip. It was ridiculous, really… Utterly ridiculous… When had he ever cared what he looked like? …When had he ever cared about what scars covered him?

"Granddad," Naruvir said, his voice so soft and gentle. Legolas felt his hand coming up to cover his. "It's all right. I've read the book, remember? I know about them and I know what they represent… They are _nothing_ to be ashamed of. I know why you hid them from us when we were younger, but I am not a child anymore, granddad… I can handle it."

When Legolas didn't let go of the cloak immediately, he whispered, " _Trust_ me. Please."

Legolas clenched his teeth and nodded without opening his eyes, his fingers slowly eased up on the grip he had on the cloak until Naruvir could take it out of his hands and slowly pull it off of him.

There was a moment of silence where Legolas knew his grandson was taking in the scars that mapped his chest, arms, back, and shoulders. Seeing them up close for the first time. His breath wheezed inside his throat when Naruvir laid a cold hand against the cold wounds that Sauron had left upon his breast.

His eyes snapped open and he saw Naruvir gazing at his chest with an unreadable look in his eyes.

"How could anyone possibly fault you, or blame you, for Sauron himself etching these marks into your skin," Naruvir whispered softly, his eyes moving from the poisoned marks to the eye-shaped burn atop his right shoulder. "Wear them with pride, granddad… Just like the ones made in the battle to keep the woods safe even after Sauron was gone…" His finger trailed over the old cuts, slashes, and arrow wounds that marked him. "…You don't need to hide any of them." Kirion's eyes wandered down to his grandfather's wrists, sadness welling up inside him at the angry, self-inflicted scars that crossed them.

When Legolas turned his arms so the scars where no longer visible, his hands clenched in his lap, Naruvir reckoned that he had pushed his grandfather enough for one day. With an encouraging smile, he gave the wine-red tunic to his grandfather and helped him slip it over his head.

"Come on," Naruvir said softly when it was done. He stood up with the drenched boots in one hand and held the other out towards his grandfather. "Let's get back before they begin to worry about us."

Legolas took his grandson's hand and let him pull him to his feet, holding it an extra moment when his vision momentarily darkened and his frozen legs struggled to adapt to carrying his weight once more. Looking down, he tried to focus on the fallen leaves beneath his bare feet, cold and damp… Slowly, he blinked his vision into focus and squeezed Naruvir's hand before letting it go and walking in the direction of the city, trying to ignore the look of worry his grandson sent his way.

Naruvir chatted softly during the trip home, somewhat uncharacteristic of him but Legolas supposed that he was just worried. It wasn't long before they stood in front of the blue-painted door that led into his home. Naruvir opened the door from them and walked through the house until he came to the bathroom.

Legolas followed him much slower, and by the time he had reached the room Naruvir was already filling the bathtub with warm, clean water. It was then that Legolas caught sight of the stained glass window that decorated the outward wall, depicting a boat sailing on the sea, under a colorful sunrise. Even the still water of the window seemed to move before his eyes, the waves crashing against the hull of the ship roaring in his ears and the cries of the gulls sounding shrilly above him.

"Granddad?"

Legolas was brought out of his stupor at his grandson's voice and blinked his eyes into focus before looking over at him. Naruvir was standing beside him, his arms filled with warm clothes he had no doubt found in the closet at the other side the room.

"The bath is ready," Naruvir said, gently laying the clothes on the table beside the bathtub. "I'll get a fire going and warm some leftover soup while you bathe."

Naruvir had already made and motion to leave but Legolas reached out and caught his arm, drawing him close in a hug and pressing a kiss against his temple. "Thank you, Naruvir," he said in a soft voice. "For everything."

Naruvir turned to him with a blinding smile. "Your welcome."

Afterwards he left him alone, and Legolas sunk into the bathwater, relishing in the warmth that surrounded him. It took a while for his toes to thaw out, but when they did he stood up and dried off before pulling on the clothes Naruvir had found for him and walking out into the kitchen. The scent of food made him realize how hungry he was and he followed it to the living room where Naruvir had made a bed on the couch with a few pillows and blankets.

A fire was roaring in the fireplace and Naruvir sat curled up in one of the armchairs, sipping at a bowl of soup. Another stood on the table in front of the couch and Naruvir looked up at him and smiled as he sat down. Legolas tried to return it but his efforts seemed strenuous and feeble.

 _It is with great sadness that I write to inform you that late this night my father, Prince Faramir of Ithilien and Steward of Gondor, passed away in his sleep after a prolonged bout of illness that, in the end, he could not overcome… Emyn Arnen grieves the loss of its ruler and will put him to rest besides his Lady Éowyn five days hence… As Lord of Cirban Gilion, and trusted friend of my father, you are likewise invited to my father's funeral…_

"Granddad."

Naruvir's voice broke him out of his thoughts yet again and he suddenly found himself looking at his grandson, who had moved from sitting in the armchair to kneeling beside the couch without him noticing. His mind felt hazy with tiredness and a sigh left his lips before he could stop it.

"Here," Naruvir said softly, handing him the bowl of soup. "Eat a little bit and then you can go to sleep."

Blankly following Naruvir's orders, he sipped at the soup while staring sightlessly into the dancing flames of the fire in the fireplace. The spices in the soup warmed him from the inside while the glow of the flames heated his skin and he found himself drowsing off slightly.

The next thing he knew, Naruvir's hands were taking the bowl of soup from his sagging fingers and gently pushing him down on the couch until he was lying down. He tried to open his eyes but they seemed to have been glued in place when his head had landed on the soft pillow. He as already drifting off when his grandson pulled the blankets up over him and kissed him on the forehead.

O

Warmth cocooned him, the gentle sound of turning pages and a cackling fire surrounding him. His head felt heavy with sleep, his eyelids almost impossible to crack open. It was only when someone started humming softly beside him that he was able to force them up. The soft light made him squint slightly and he blinked sluggishly to get his vision into focus.

Another page being turned made him look up. Glorfindel was sitting in the armchair beside the couch, his feet propped up on the sofa table and a book in his lap. Blue eyes moved over the lines of the book, slight lines of concentration marking his brow.

Legolas felt his lips quirk up in fondness, but the smile froze and faded as he remembered Faramir, and the lake, and Naruvir… His hands clenched the soft fabric of the blankets that covered him.

"Hey…"

Glorfindel's soft voice broke him out of his thoughts before they could drag him down in the depths and he shifted his gaze upwards once more. Glorfindel had turned his gaze from the book to him, putting his feet back on the ground, and his book on the table. He leaned towards the couch and gently brushed his fingers through Legolas' silvery hair.

"You're awake at last," he murmured, gazing at him with a sad look in his eyes. He could tell from that single look that Naruvir had already told him happened. "How are you feeling? Warm again?"

"Toasty," Legolas whispered in response, forcing his lips into a slight smile. "I'm all right, Glorfindel. How long was I asleep?"

"Eighteen hours, more or less," Glorfindel answered. "It's the middle of the night now."

"You're here, looking after me in the middle of night? You should be sleeping, Glorfindel, not wearing yourself out by watching me sleep." Legolas sighed.

Glorfindel shrugged in response. "I slept a few hours, earlier. You don't need to worry."

"…You don't need to worry, either," Legolas whispered after a moment, gazing intently into Glorfindel's eyes. "Not about me…"

"Don't I?" Glorfindel asked, tilting his head slightly. "Naruvir told me what happened. Legolas… what were you doing?"

Legolas' breath caught in his throat at the question and he averted his eyes from Glorfindel's, swallowing thickly. Damn it all. What the hell had he been doing? "I don't know," he whispered hoarsely.

"You weren't trying to drown yourself?" Glorfindel asked him bluntly.

"No!" Legolas said vehemently, jerking his eyes up to Glorfindel's once more. Almost immediately, he could see some of the tenseness drain from his friend. "I wasn't… I…" He grit his teeth as he tried to figure out what he could say, tried to understand what he really had been doing. When he did, a slight flush of shame washed over his cheeks and he averted him gaze from Glorfindel's again."…I just wanted it all to stop for a moment," he continued hoarsely. "I just wanted it all to be quiet for just a moment…" He reached up and clenched his hands into his hair on either side of his head.

"What did you want to be quiet?" Glorfindel inquired softly as he reached up and gently pulled Legolas' hands away, not about to let him hurt himself even though he knew that his friend had a tendency to rely on pain to ground him when he was in distress.

"Everything…" Legolas breathed. "The sea …my thoughts… everything."

Glorfindel was silent for a moment, but then he said, "Naruvir told me that you talked to him about Faneth, Legolas. He told me that you said to him that he shouldn't think of her as a coward…" Legolas closed his eyes and shook his head roughly but Glorfindel continued on nonetheless, "Why would you assume that Naruvir thought of Faneth as being cowardly? …Are those some of the thoughts that run through your mind?"

"No!" Legolas rasped, snapping his eyes up to glare at Glorfindel. "How dare you even say that! Faneth wasn't a coward; she did everything that she could to stay with me! It wasn't her fault what happened! None of it was her fault! She kept herself alive after losing our baby, you know how few elves can survive losing a child! She did the best that she could and she waited for me for more than a month longer than I told her to! How dare you say that she was a coward!"

"I'm not saying that you think that she's a coward," Glorfindel said gently. "I'm not saying that she is or that that is what picture you have of her… but Legolas sometimes we cannot control the things that go through our minds, the things that revolve inside it, until we are almost sick with grief… Sometimes our own thoughts can be our worst enemies, you know… and I'm not saying that it is your fault or that you really think Faneth is a coward, I'm only asking if thoughts like that are circling around your head?"

"She isn't a coward," Legolas insisted hoarsely. "She isn't… She…" A choked sob left his throat and he reached up once more to tug at his own hair. This time Glorfindel didn't stop him, only moved closer as Legolas seemed to shrink in on himself.

"She isn't a coward," Legolas choked out.

"I know." Glorfindel responded.

He reached up to cup Legolas' cheek when tears started rolling down from his eyes. The despair in his friend's eyes what almost too much to bear as he watched Legolas try to control the cries that desperately tried to leave his chest. His whole body seemed to be trembling in addition to his suddenly jerky breathing.

He seemed to lose control the next moment as he a choked sob left him simultaneously as the words, "Why did she leave me…?" He hunched in on himself, burrowing his face in Glorfindel's shoulder as if that could hide him from the world as sobs finally wracked his body. "How could she leave me…?" he choked out even as his breathing became more and more ragged, "I know she's not a coward… she's so strong… and it wasn't her fault… But why did she leave me here all by myself…? She… She wasn't supposed to leave me…"

"Shh…" Glorfindel shushed him gently, rubbing his hand over Legolas' back and nape. Smoothly, he moved from the armchair to the couch without dislodging Legolas' grip on him. "It's all right…"

"No, it isn't!" Legolas sobbed. "She wasn't supposed to leave… I fought my way back… because I thought she would be there… but she wasn't… and I can't..." He sucked in air and attempted to hold it in an attempt to get his increasingly panicky breathing under control. "…It wasn't her fault… she had just lost the baby… and she needed me, but I was the one… that left her… And she stayed for a whole month …despite everyone telling her that I was… I was gone… I wasn't her fault, Glorfindel!"

"I know," Glorfindel whispered, combing his fingers through Legolas' hair. "And I know that you know that as well, and Faneth would know that you knew that. It's just sometimes, Legolas …sometimes our minds just understand things that our hearts simply can't follow… Sometimes you can understand something so clearly, but even if you understand it …it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. It doesn't mean that you're not allowed to cry, or that your not allowed to sometimes think that everything is unfair and too much to bear… You don't have to be strong all the time. Faneth will understand, just like I understand."

Legolas was silent for a long while, just shuddering against him, and Glorfindel tightened his arms around him. He felt so frail in his arms, almost like he would shatter if he held on too tightly or break apart if he let go. He was almost at his wits end on how to help him, the fear that had welled up inside him when Naruvir had told him what had happened had incapacitated him and he had found it hard to breathe.

"Are you sure…?" Legolas voice came so softly and shakily that he had trouble making out the words. Nevertheless, the meaning of it reached him.

"Positive," Glorfindel whispered, pressing a kiss against Legolas' hair. "Just… just take care of yourself better, because if there is something that Faneth will not forgive you for then it is you hurting yourself."

"She's gone," Legolas choked in response. "She's not here anymore…"

"I know," Glorfindel breathed. "I know, but she still wouldn't have wanted this… And if you won't do it for her, then take care of yourself for me… for Naruvir and Caladel, and Maliel. …When you need everything to be quiet or you can't take anymore, then come to me or Alfirin or anyone and talk to us, don't jump into a lake in autumn."

"…I didn't mean to… I wasn't… I wasn't trying to…"

"I know…" Glorfindel sighed. "You just scared me…"

"…I'm sorry," Legolas apologized faintly.

"I'm sorry, too," Glorfindel said. "I'm sorry that I wasn't with you when you got that letter… I know how close you and Faramir had become. I-" He stopped talking when he noticed Legolas tensing in his arms, his hands tightening their grip on his shirt. A soft sigh left his lips in response and he leaned back in the couch, pulling Legolas with him until they were lying comfortably beside each other. He gently ran his fingers through Legolas' hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

Legolas sniffled and gave a choked laugh, his voice tearful as he mumbled, "When did I become so damned weak…"

"Hush." Glorfindel felt his heart burn at Legolas' words. The dancing flames in the fireplace blurred from the tears that welled up in his eyes, his eyelids fluttered to get rid of them and make the world sharper again. He wished that he had some way of making all of Legolas' problems go away, some way of dragging him up of the dark hole that he was digging for himself. "Don't even think that for a second. You keep yourself strong almost constantly… it's all right to let go sometimes. …Just go to sleep, Legolas. I know that you're still tired. We'll talk more in the morning."

"Will you come with me…?" Legolas whispered, already halfway asleep.

"Where?" Glorfindel asked as he closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against Legolas' head. The fact that Legolas had woken up had reassured him like nothing else could and he found that the tension that had made it impossible for him to sleep was slowly draining away.

"…Faramir's funeral," Legolas answered faintly, his voice mumbled. Despite that, his grief was unmistakable.

"Of course I will. Wouldn't miss it for the world…" Glorfindel pressed a kiss against Legolas' forehead. He pulled Legolas closer to him so they both laid more comfortably and found himself drifting off to the sound of Legolas' increasingly deep breathing.


	21. Numbness

**Chapter twenty-one – Numbness**

 _The 120th year of the Forth Age. Caladel and Naruvir are one hundred and twenty-two years old._

The city seemed so silent outside the walls of the house of the kings, even more so than the silence between all of them as they sat in Aragorn's study. Gimli, Glorfindel, Eldarion, Ellairë, and Lassiel sat in front of the fireplace, Aragorn's children huddled together on one of the couches their faces solemn. Eldarion had an arm around both his sisters and they leaned against him for comfort.

Legolas lifted his foot onto the window seat where he sat, gazing out upon the slowly rising sun. He hugged his arms around his leg and leaned his cheek against his knee. Maliel, Elrohir, Elladan, and Isilmë were in with him now, with Arwen. She hadn't left her husband's side the last few days, since Aragorn had first felt his time coming. They had all hastily gathered in Minas Tirith, but seemed to have been waiting in trepidation and silence since that.

"Legolas."

He turned his lifeless gaze from the rising sun, which was painting the sky in red and purple, and met Glorfindel's gaze from where he was sitting in the armchair by the fire.

"Are you all right?"

Legolas gave him a weak smile. "Who is, really?" he whispered. He turned his attention to the now grown children that he was honorary uncle to, his sapphire eyes saddening at the grief in their expressions. "Eldarion, Ellairë, Lassiel," he called gently. They looked up at him. "The sun is rising…"

The three of them looked out of the window at his words, sad smiles tugging at the corners of their lips. For an instant, they looked so much like their father; he had that same slightly crooked smile… Lassiel rose to her feet and moved over to him, standing beside him and laying her head on his shoulder so she could watch the sunrise. Legolas wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her closer.

Lassiel was the only one left of Aragorn's children who still hadn't found her destined partner. Eldarion was already married and had young children of his own, and Ellaurë had recently gotten engaged with a young man from Rohan. They were all moving on with their lives, Eldarion more than ready to take the responsibility of the crown.

The door opening interrupted his thoughts, and both him and Lassiel turned from the window to look towards it. It was Maliel and Isilmë. Maliel's eyes were red and Isilmë had her arm around her shoulders. Nevertheless, she gave them a teary smile and stepped up to the couch so she could press kisses against Eldarion and Ellaurë's cheeks.

"Your mother is still with him," she said, her voice just slightly hoarse. "Elrohir and Elladan have gone off for themselves for a little while, saying goodbye to their little brother was hard."

Lassiel gave a choked sob so Legolas pulled her closer and pressed a kiss against her forehead. He felt completely detached from his own emotions, almost like he was floating somewhere above his body, watching as he comforted Lassiel.

"Ada…"

He looked over at Maliel, her eyes gazing thoughtfully and worriedly into his.

"Estel wants to see you and Gimli now," she told him, looking at Gimli as well. She smiled sadly, "The three hunters gathered one last time. …Go to him."

Gimli nodded solemnly to her words and got to his feet. "Come on, Laddie," he said gruffly. "It is time."

Legolas gazed at him numbly, his mind unwilling to register what they were telling him. It was only when Lassiel pulled away from him and looked at him with those large, argent eyes of hers that he could blink his gaze into focus. She placed her hands agains this cheeks, tears rolling down her own.

"Uncle," she told him softly. "It's time for you to go say goodbye to dad. He is waiting for you."

He swallowed thickly, but nodded in response, giving her a smile in a vain attempt to stop her from worrying. It didn't work that was clear, but she did give him as smile when he kissed her on the cheek as he got to his feet.

"Ready?" Gimli asked him as he walked over to him.

"As I'll ever be…"

They walked together to the door but had to take a step back as it opened once more. Legolas found himself suddenly thrown completely back to reality at the sight of his father standing in the doorway. Suddenly, he felt completely exposed under the gaze of the person who had known him all of his life and had to stop himself from taking another step back. His eyes widened but gradually, as he continued to look into those familiar, comforting eyes, he found himself relaxing.

"Ada…" he breathed out.

A sad smile appeared on Thranduil's lips. The pained look in his father's eyes as he studied him made him suddenly self-conscious about his appearance and he looked to the ground.

Fingers under his chin made him lift his gaze as his father stepped up to him and wrapped his arms around him. He closed his eyes and fell into the embrace, burying his face in his father's comforting scent.

"Aragorn wrote to me and asked me to come, said that you would need me," Thranduil said quietly to him. "I'm glad that I am here in time. …Are you on your way to go see him?"

"Yeah," Legolas sighed.

Thranduil nodded and drew back, pressing a kiss against his oldest son's forehead. "Then go," he told him. "I'll be here when you get back."

Legolas gave him a pained smile before stepping over to Gimli once more, moving completely away from his father's comforting form. Numbness and trepidation gripped him once more and he almost couldn't get himself to move any further. At that moment, however, a rugged hand gripped his briefly, pulling him towards the door. He gazed at Gimli and followed him out of the room and into the corridor.

It seemed too soon that they were in front of the door, which led into the room Aragorn rested in. Before Legolas could get him to wait a moment, Gimli had already raised his fist and given the door a few sharp raps. Arwen opened the door a moment later, her face set in grief. She gave them a watery smile and gestured for them to go inside.

The air was fresh and gentle with the scent of Athelas and lavender boiling in a pot over the fire in the fireplace. When Arwen closed the door behind them, a sense of finality washed over him and he found that he could not follow Gimli as the dwarf walked over to the bed in which Aragorn was lying.

The words they spoke washed over him like a fog, his attention caught by the sight of Aragorn. His long time friend was lying under the cream sheets of the bed, propped up by soft pillows. Aragorn was pallid, his silver eyes tired but peaceful as he spoke softly to Gimli occasionally glancing over at him. His friend's once black hair and beard had turned silver with streaks of white. Wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes, lips, and eyebrows as he smiled to Gimli.

He was soon going to be gone…

"Legolas…?"

He blinked, drawn from his thoughts, and raised his eyes to Aragorn's. A little while seemed to have passed, Gimli now sitting quietly, stoutly trying to hold back his tears. He blinked once more, to try and get his mind to focus before he walked over to Aragorn and sat down on his bedside.

"Hey Valiant Warrior," Aragorn said softly, smiling crookedly at him. Legolas remembered the name as one Elladan and Elrohir had used to describe him when telling Aragorn stories of his achievements as a child.

"My King," Legolas responded numbly, his voice so soft that it was almost impossible to hear. Nevertheless, Aragorn's eyes softened and he reached out with an aged hand to squeeze his.

"My time has come, my friend," he whispered. "I will not make the mistakes my forefathers did… I will not fight for longer life; dwindle in a throne that I refuse to pass on to my son. I will not stay until my body and memory fails me and I become a burden to those around me. Eldarion is ready, it is time to leave this world to the next generation."

"Then leave him the throne," Legolas said quietly, a faint plea in his voice. "Let him take the throne, but stay and guide him, stay with your children for a while longer. They need you."

Aragorn smiled gently. "They have all grown up so beautifully. …I am old Legolas, I have already lived the lives of two men, and it has been a fulfilling one. I can feel it in my bones and in my heart that it is time for me to go. …And I think that it's about time you allow yourself some peace as well, my friend…"

"You don't have to worry about me, Aragorn," Legolas responded, averting his eyes from Aragorn's silver gaze, his eyes too piercing for him to handle. A hand on the cheek forced him to look back despite the fact that he felt Aragorn read the very depths of his soul.

"Your eyes are midnight blue, Legolas," Aragorn whispered, his voice sad. "…If that is not cause for concern then I do not know what is. I wish that my death would not cause you the pain that I know you are feeling. …I go to peace soon and it feels almost unfair that the same has not been granted to you. The doom of man may seem strange and unfair to you, but so does the long life of the elder to us mortals…"

Legolas' mouth felt dry at those words, the frightening pull of death tugging at his numb mind. He could barely imagine just being able to lie down and letting every bad feeling and sorrow fade into nothingness, to never have to listen to the voices inside his mind telling him that everything was his fault, to never have to feel completely numb and exhausted ever again.

It was dangerous to think about…

He clenched his hands into fists to stop their trembling.

"There comes a time when enough is enough, Legolas, for anyone," Aragorn continued faintly; his eyes sympathetic. "And I'm afraid that you reached that point some time ago… I know that you are staying on these shores for Naruvir and Caladel, but I also know that you've been staying for me… I will not tell you what to do, but there is no need to stay for me any longer… and Eldarion, Ellaurë, and Lassiel are smart kids… they'll be fine."

Legolas lowered his head, staring down at the clenched fists in his lap. With a deep breath he uncurled them, flexing them slightly to try and get them to relax. "I know…" he breathed. He closed his eyes for a moment, falling back into the numb ocean that was swallowing him up. Then he looked up at Aragorn once more, "but I would not have you worry about this now… Not on your last…" The words died on his lips.

Aragorn relaxed completely against the pillows behind his back, giving Legolas a slow nod. "You are right, my friend. I've said what I wanted to say, and I trust you to make the choice that is right for you… That is enough for me." He looked at Gimli as well, "After all… the three hunters are gathered once more, one final time."

"Who would've known that a smelly ranger, a prissy elf, and a god-like dwarf would traipse the world together as we have done," Gimli grinned with a barked laugh, puffing himself up slightly.

Legolas snorted, "God-like? More like bull-headed."

Aragorn laughed quietly, his silver eyes dancing with amusement. "Who would have thought," he agreed. "I certainly had my doubts throughout the first half of our journey… but look at you now, my brothers. …it gives me peace to know that the two of you are still together …the last of a once strong fellowship."

They stayed with Aragorn for a while, reminiscing about the past while trying to keep the tears at bay, for they knew that this was the last time they were going to be together the three of them. In the end, Arwen gently ushered them out when Aragorn began to look tired, and told them to get Eldarion, Ellairë, and Lassiel.

Aragorn's study was just as quiet when they returned as when they had left it. Aragorn's children looked up at them, and no words were necessary for them to get to their feet and go towards the room their father was, holding each other's hands for comfort. Legolas watched them go blankly, his heart burning inside his chest. The next thing he knew he was being gently pulled over to the couch and sat down beside his father, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

They seemed to sit there forever. Eventually Elladan and Elrohir came back into the study, followed by Eldarion, Ellairé, and Lassiel. Eldarion had his father's crown and scepter in his hands, his eyes red rimmed but determined.

"Mum is with him now," Ellarë told them, her voice choked. Her and Lassiel squeezed themselves into an armchair together, tears gently rolling down their cheeks. Maliel went over to them while Elladan and Elrohir sat down on either side of Eldarion, offering their support should he need it.

And so they waited.

The sun slowly rose until it was high in the sky and still no word came. It was only when the dimness of the night began to appear that the door opened once more and a pale Arwen stepped inside, her face set in grief.

"He is gone," she said, her voice empty and her body encased by nothing more than a fading glow. Suddenly, she looked old and weary of the world. Tears rolled down her wan cheeks, but she seemed not to notice in her grief.

Eldarion snapped up from where he was sitting on one of the couches, beside her in a few brisk strides, and took her into his strong arms. He was taller than she was now, and she seemed so small in his arms. Ellairë and Lassiel cried for their father, but got to their feet and rushed to their mother as well, hugging both her and Eldarion as they shared their grief with their family.

As Legolas gazed around the room, he saw tears streaming down Gimli's weathered cheek and into his grey beard. Elladan had his arms around a crying Elrohir, and Isilmë sat by his side, offering him whatever comfort she could as he eased his twin. In the armchair beside the fireplace, Glorfindel sat staring into the flames, his blue eyes awash with grief.

Looking around him once more, dizziness assailed him. They were all crying, grieving… but he couldn't feel anything. The deep sea of numbness that had been plaguing him for so long seemed to have suddenly swallowed him whole, pulling him towards its deepest depths. It was all-consuming, numbing blankness that scared the life out of him. He couldn't stay there… he could be surrounded by it all, or he felt he might pass out…

Abruptly getting to his feet, he hurried to the other side of the room and out the doors onto the balcony, his departure noticed by everyone but those who had gathered around Arwen. Glorfindel slowly dragged himself to his feet, his face set in grief and exhaustion, but Thranduil gestured for him to stay before hurrying after his son.

He found him on the balcony, sat down with his back against the railing, a frighteningly blank expression on his face and his eyes, if possible, even more dark than they had been that whole day. Hurriedly, he moved over and sat beside him, placing an arm over his shoulders and pulling him against his side. It was only then that he noticed the trembles that ran up and down his entire body and the clenched fists gathered so close to his heart, pinned between his chest and his bent legs.

It was almost like he had tired to make himself smaller in an attempt to hide himself away.

"Talk to me, Legolas," Thranduil pleaded softly while he rubbed his hand up and down Legolas' cold arm, as if that was going to get his trembling to stop.

Legolas didn't answer him. Didn't even look his way.

O

The city of Minas Tirith entered a period of grief. The streets as quiet as the citadel, and every silver flag in the city changed to black. Cold wind swept over the white tree Gondor in the center of the courtyard and slowly carried down the white flowers over the city.

The days passed by in a blur, one moment swallowing the other until Legolas found himself following the funeral proceedings, stepping over white, yellow, orange, and blue flowers thrown onto the white cobblestone of Minas Tirith by the citizens gathered on either side of the path. Eldarion, Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel carried Aragorn upon their shoulders, lying on a bed of flowers. There was a crown upon his silver head and a sword grasped in his lifeless hands, the uniform of Gondor proudly upon his chest.

A woman began singing to their left, her voice carrying an ancient Gondorian verse in the gentle wind as the sun began to rise over the horizon. Other voices soon carried the song with her as they honored their King one last time.

It was all like watching a dream, walking with Gimli and his father beside him into the tombs of the Kings, watching Arwen dressed and veiled in black, kiss her husband on the forehead as he was lowered respectfully into a crypt of white stone, his likeness carved on the lid. Ellaurë and Lassiel were sobbing as they, too, said their final farewells to their father, placing white flowers of Athelas into his hair.

It was all wrong… Aragorn was not meant to be trapped in stone… He was meant to scattered in the plains he roamed, under the trees he had laughed, in the light of the rising sun he had cherished.

He found himself moving towards the tomb with Gimli, his dwarven friend crying beside him as he placed Aragorn's pipe beside him with a gathering of pipeweed, laughing through his tears that he should have a supply with him where he was going.

And then it was suddenly his turn.

For a moment, he just stared at his friend, as if he could not comprehend what he was seeing, but the he reached out with a shaking hand and placed it against his cold and weathered cheek, opening his mouth to speak for what seemed like the first time in days.

"Hiro le hîdh ab 'wanath, mellon nín…" he whispered softly, his voice slightly hoarse. [May you find peace after death, my friend...]

Then he stepped aside and watched as people he knew or didn't know walked up to Aragorn's tomb and said their goodbyes until at last there was none let, but Eldarion. The son of Aragorn stepped up to his father's grave, leaning over the casket and pressed a kiss against his forehead. He said something so softly that it was impossible to hear before taking a step back and going down to his knees in front of the grave.

"I will make you proud, father," he said so those around could hear him. "I promise to take care of the city you have left me and the people that reside in her. I promise to carry on your legacy and become the best King that I can, and hopefully someday I will live up to the birthright you have bestowed upon me and later my son."

He was silent for a moment but then whispered the words that Elrond had once spoken to his foster son, "…Ónen i-Estel Edain. …Ú-chebin estel anim." At that moment, he looked up with shining eyes, determination in their silvery depths and he looked so much like his father that it was painful. [I give hope to men. I keep none for myself.]

Arwen stepped forward from where she had been standing beside her husband's grave, grief and pride battling over control in pale features. In her hands she held the crown of the King of Gondor and the sword Narsil, with which Aragorn had once battled to bring about the peace that ruled the world now.

Eldarion lowered his head once more and his mother placed the crown upon his dark hair. Once the weight had settled, he stood once more, tall and proud, and took the sword from her hands as he kissed her upon the cheek.

Then he turned to his people, and they burst into applause at their new King.

O

Later that day found all of them, except for Eldarion, Ellairë, and Lassiel, sitting around in Aragorn's old study. Glorfindel was passing tumblers of brandy around, no doubt in an attempt to warm the chill and soothe the sorrow that had gathered in all of their chests. Legolas was back in the window seat, gazing at the stars, and Arwen sat on the couch, her face closed off and her glow almost completely gone.

"I will go to Lothlorien." Her deadened voice cut through the silence that had gathered over them.

Immediately, all eyes snapped to her.

"What?" Elladan exhaled, his face set in apprehension and dawning understanding.

She turned her vacant eyes to her eldest brother. "I chose my fate many years ago, Dan. I chose a mortal life…" She let the words sink in for a moment and when no one spoke, she continued, "I will go to my grandparent's people and stay with them until my time comes."

"But what of Eldarion, Ellairë, and Lassiel?" Elrohir asked, his voice hoarse and upset. "They need you, especially now."

"My children are old enough to take care of themselves, Eldarion ready to make sure that Lassiel finds someone worthy of her," Arwen answered him. "I will not stay here so they can watch me fade away in front of them."

"Then don't fade…" Legolas surprised even himself when he suddenly found himself speaking. Everyone turned to him with shock in their eyes, as though they had forgotten he was even there or that he could speak. For a moment, their looks made his throat tighten up once more, but as he looked into Arwen's eyes, filled with such familiar grief that it sent a dagger through his heart, he knew he had to speak. He got up from the window seat and took a few steps towards her, stopping when he noticed her backing away.

"Don't leave them…" he told her. "Eldarion still needs your advice as he takes the throne, Ellairë needs her mother beside her at her wedding, and Lassiel needs your advice when the time comes for her to follow her heart… Decide to stay, for them... I will not lie to you, it will be hard, unbearable sometimes, but if you can watch you children become adults and watch your grandchildren grow up, isn't it worth it? …It isn't impossible, Arwen."

The pained look on Arwen face was almost like she had been struck, but it soon gave way to fiery anger. The sort of anger that only came when fueled with grief. "It is impossible!" She snapped, her voice choked with pain and fury. "I cannot stay here if Estel is not with me! I feel like I've been cleaved in half! You don't understand, Legolas! He's never coming back! He's gone forever!"

"I do understand," he whispered, his voice weak. "Faneth isn't coming back either, but I'm still here…"

"Well then you must not have loved her as much as I loved him!" Arwen cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks as she clenched her eyes shut.

The second those words rung through the quiet room, Legolas felt a sharp bolt of pain go through his chest, his breath catching in his throat. Coupled with the strain of the last few days and the already existing grief inside his heart, he watched his vision go black around the edges, suddenly dizzy. Before he could stop it, his knees buckled underneath him until he collapsed to his knees on the floor with a stunned look on his face.

Someone choked out his name and then Arwen was kneeling before him, tears glittering in her eyes as she reached out and cupped his cheeks, holding up his head. They seemed to have forgotten everyone else in the room as they looked into each other's eyes, both holding the same kind of grief. They were both pallid and tears rolled down their cheeks.

"You see why I can't stay?" Arwen choked, gently smoothing her thumbs over the tears that rolled down Legolas' cheeks. "I can already feel myself changing, growing colder and angrier… I won't stay where my children can watch me become someone who I am not… I cannot stay when I do not have the strength to fight this grief. …I am not as strong as you."

"You are strong Arwen," he told her softly. "Stronger than you know…"

She gave him a watery smile. "Not strong enough for this…" she whispered. "I made my choice when I married Estel, Legolas… If you were given the choice… if you had been allowed to decide, would you then have stayed after Faneth died?"

He was struck mute, his throat closing up as he remembered the initial year after Faneth died, how he had begged for Alfirin to let him go… to let him die. He folded slightly into himself, unable to answer her. He knew that there was nothing more he could say to her…

"It's all right, Legolas," Arwen whispered to him, wrapping her arms around him and drawing him into a hug. "It's not your responsibility to convince me to stay, it is my choice. I have lived a long life, a happy one, but it is my choice to leave now… To go when my children can still remember me as I am and not who I will become."

O

Legolas had fallen back into silence after that, more weary than ever. He seemed to be constantly sleeping, finding it hard to wake in the morning despite everyone periodically looking in on him. The day after she had made the decision, Arwen left for Lothlorien, her brothers making this last journey with her. Eldarion, Ellairë, and Lassiel were even more heartbroken, but they had each other to lean on as well as their families and friends.

He could barely remember what day it was after Aragorn's death when he was woken by the sound of someone moving about his room. He opened his eyes to see his father calmly pulling clothes from his closet and repacking it in the saddlebag, leaving a pair out for him to wear. He was humming under his breath.

"Ada…?" he whispered, his eyes still drooping slightly.

Thranduil looked up and smiled sadly when he saw him awake. He folded the last shirt and then came over to sit down on his bedside. "Hey there," he greeted him with a soft voice. "It's midday. Glorfindel, Maliel, Isilmë and I have decided that it is time for us to ride back to Cirban Gilion."

"You're coming with us…?"

"Yes, I am." Thranduil replied, his eyes and voice carrying a suggestion that he knew more than what he was saying, but Legolas was too tired to care. "We're all packed and ready so you only need to get dressed and then come down to say goodbye to Eldarion, Ellairë, and Lassiel. They are waiting for you in the courtyard."

His father left after that, taking the pack with him, and he was left with no other choice than to pull on his clothes and get ready. As he stood up from the bed, he was forced to grab onto the bedpost as his vision darkened. He remained shaky on his feet even then, but still walked through the citadel until he reached the courtyard.

Maliel, Isilmë, Glorfindel, and his father were readying their horses while Eldarion, Ellairë, and Lassiel stood talking to Gimli. As he walked over to them, he watched as all of them hugged Gimli, tears rolling down their cheeks. They let go and dried their cheeks as they noticed him coming towards them.

"Are you ready for our departure, Laddie?" Gimli asked gruffly, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes.

"Are you coming with us?" Legolas asked him with a soft and tired voice, tilting his head in question.

Immediately, Gimli's brown eyes shone with worry. "Yes," he answered. "I told you that yesterday, don't you remember?"

No, he didn't remember, and his lack of response told Gimli as much.

Gimli had to clear his throat before he was able to speak again. "Well I am… We'll ride together like we once did, Laddie." He pat Legolas arm before leaving them to their goodbyes, moving over to where they were readying the horses.

Legolas watched him go, but then turned his gaze to Aragorn and Arwen's three children. They were all looking at him with the same look in their eyes as his father had had, …as Gimli had had. The sadness in their eyes was raw.

Nevertheless, Lassiel stepped up to him and kissed his cheek before wrapping her arms around him. "Goodbye Uncle," she whispered to him. "I hope that you will find happiness once more. Just promise me to always remember that we love you very much." She drew slightly back to give him a teary smile.

Ellairë gave a choked sob and he suddenly found her in his arms as well. "Promise that you'll write to us, Uncle," she told him. "And that you will follow your heart, wherever it may lead you."

Legolas chuckled faintly. "You sound as though we'll never see each other again…" he whispered to them.

At that moment, Eldarion stepped up to them so Lassiel and Ellairë moved back to allow him room, effectively distracting him from his question. "Take care of yourself, Uncle," Eldarion told him, clasping his forearm and drawing him into a short hug. Aragorn's crown stood proudly upon his head. "And promise that you won't worry about us, we'll be all right." He drew back and gave him that crooked smile that looked so much like his father's. "We have each other."

O

They reached Cirban Gilion at nightfall the next day. It had begun to drizzle, a slight fog settling over the grass around them. Isilmë offered to take care of their horses so they were free to walk homewards. As Legolas walked in the rain, his eyes seemed to open and close in weariness. He felt, once more, that he was being swallowed by an ocean of numbness, the crashing waves roaring in his ears. Claustrophobia filled him more and more as they neared his house and still no one had turned off from the path.

He couldn't deal with everyone… He couldn't do it any longer…

When he reached his door, he stepped inside and smacked it closed behind him, leaning against it with closed eyes. Almost immediately, someone knocked gently against it. "Legolas?" his father's voice asked in a whisper.

"…Just let me be alone…" he said, his voice hollow and faint.

A few seconds passed. "…All right, I'm trusting you, Legolas," his father said gently. The next moment, he could hear them moving away from the door.

Promptly, he slid down the door to sit in the grass, a dazed expression on his face. He didn't know how long he sat there, it could have been seconds or hours, but he did know that he was stiff when he finally forced his body up once more, leaning against the door as his vision blurred and pain sparked through his forehead.

He staggered through the house, everything seemed so vague and distant. He was so far away… so numb… The roaring in his ears was almost deafening and he clasped his hands over his ears as he sank back against the side of the bathtub, rocking slightly back and forth.

His heart was so cold, so numb; unable to feel, unable to think. Almost like he couldn't control his body anymore, the world spinning around him.

The next thing he knew, a sharp pain exploded over his wrist and he was so abruptly pulled back into his body that he gasped in shock, feeling flooding back into his heart and time seeming to fall into place once more. He snapped his eyes up and was immediately met with the sight of a long jagged cut running diagonally across his wrist, thick blood oozing from. In his other hand he held a bloody knife that he had no idea how he had gotten.

Shock, fear, grief, pain, shame, and every other emotion flooded his chest so quickly that he threw the knife from him with a sharp cry of anguish, not even looking up when he heard something shattering in response. Deep sobs, which had been locked inside him since Aragorn had died, were ripped fiercely from his chest, the force of them so strong that it made his body shake.

He curled in on himself, trembling and sobbing with fright and grief as he slowly felt blood soaking through the sleeve of his undershirt and tunic. The dizzying feeling that he had battled for so long closed in on him as his breathing rattled with panic.

He didn't know what to do…

He curled even further in on himself, slowly becoming lightheaded and sluggish with loss of blood.

Reduced to his oldest instincts, he immediately called for the one person who had always been there for him, even when he was a child. Giving a shaky but shrill whistle to the wind.

O

"Do you believe that we can convince him this time," Alfirin asked, his still voice carrying a heavy accent. He was walking through the drizzle in the forest with Glorfindel, Gimli, and Thranduil.

"You should have seen him, Alfirin," Glorfindel sighed in response. "Even Lassiel could see that he was at the end of his rope. He's barely spoken in days, he sits in a daze for hours at a time, drops off to sleep constantly. He has given no response to Aragorn's death…"

"I told him that I would be coming with him here, but he couldn't remember it the day after," Gimli said.

Alfirin's expression deepened with concern, and he glanced back in the direction of Legolas' house as if he could see his ward through the walls and trees.

"We told Eldarion, Ellairë, and Lassiel that this would likely be the last time they would see him. Elrohir and Maliel have also spoken and decided to follow him over the sea, the same with Elladan and Isilmë. Maliel is home, speaking to Naruvir and Caladel right now," Thranduil said, his eyes showing a strange mixture of sadness, relief, and resolution.

"I will go with him as well," Gimli said gruffly. "If it is my fate to share the friendship of an elf, then it must be my fate to sail over the seas with him, and to set eyes upon the Lady Galadriel once more."

"I will also go with him," Glorfindel said. "I cannot leave him now. Middle Earth has already shown me everything it has to offer, and both sons of Elrond will sail across the sea with him. …What of you, Alfirin?"

The wood elf sighed. "I have always been a flighty elf," he said softly. "Legolas knows this, as he knows me… My heart will forever lie with the trees of Middle Earth, and I don't care if I pass out of all thought or knowledge. I cannot go with him on this journey, but I trust all of you with his safety. It is about time I completely hand over his care."

Thranduil nodded in response, clasping Alfirin's shoulder. "I will stay for a little while yet, as well, until the last of my people have settled or moved on themselves. Afterwards, I will join you in the blessed realm."

"This all leads us back to the dilemma of how to convince him to come with us," Glorfindel said.

They were all silent for a moment, but then Gimli said softly, "There are only two people who can convince the lad to come."

"Caladel and Naruvir," Thranduil sighed.

Gimli nodded in response, he was about to say more when a shrill whistle suddenly swept through the air. He would have brushed it off as nothing if Alfirin had not gone rigid that exact moment, his head snapping in the direction of the sound with his yellow and green eyes dilated.

He would remember that whistle anywhere… it was the one him and Legolas had created when he had still been an elfling, one that he had taught him and told him that 'where he was in the world, as soon as he heard that whistle he would fly to his rescue'. This was exactly what Alfirin did now, ignoring the shouts over the others as he flew over the grass in the direction of Legolas' home.

So fixated was he on his goal that he didn't register the others finally drawing themselves out of their shock and following him.

The journey seemed to take forever but there couldn't have passed more than a minute before he was barreling through Legolas' front door, his eyes wildly searching for his ward. When he didn't see him immediately, he latched on to the great tree in the middle of the house and followed its frantic murmuring to the bathroom. What he saw inside broke his heart.

Legolas was curled in on himself against the bathtub, sobbing so harshly that he was almost hyperventilating. A shattered vase lay on the opposite side of the room, knocked down by a bloodstained knife. His eyes seemed to register a million things at once, almost like time was standing still, but then he rushed towards Legolas, drawing him into his arms.

When he was this close to him he could see the blood that had soaked through the sleeve of his tunic and the deep, diagonal cut underneath the tear in the fabric.

"…I'm sorry." Legolas sobbed, hiccupping; his breathing panicked and fearful. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Shh, Titta Lassë," Alfirin shushed him, rocking him gently despite the thundering beating of his heart. He could see exactly how pale Legolas had become and reached out to put pressure on the wound on his wrist. "Shush…" [Little Leaf]

At that moment, the door burst open again and Legolas' breathing immediately caught in his throat, only to pick up again even more panicked as he burrowed closer to Alfirin's safety.

Thranduil took one look at his son and then ran into the room, kneeling on Legolas' other side and enveloping him in his arms as well. "Shh, Greenleaf," he breathed gently to his son. Legolas' panicked breathing soothed slightly once more at the sound of his father's voice and the closeness of him and Alfirin.

Glorfindel and Gimli came in after Thranduil. Glorfindel eyeing the scene before sinking dizzily against the wall, tears welling up inside his eyes as he slid down it to sit in the grass. Gimli grit his teeth and hurried ripped a small towel out of the closet and handed it to Thranduil.

"Everything's going to be all right," Thranduil whispered soothingly, running his hand up and down Legolas' back. He took the towel from Gimli without even looking up from his son and gently replaced Alfirin's hand with it, pressing it down against the wound.

Legolas' sobs were becoming weaker whether from loss of blood or from the comfort his father and guardian provided they did not know. Nevertheless, he continued to shake like a leaf in their arms, mumbling under his breath that he was sorry.

"Nás ilya mára," Alfirin whispered gently. "Quildë, Titta Lassë. Sívë…" [It is all right. Hush, Little Leaf. Peace…]

Legolas' noisy sobs and convulsive gasps slowly died down until tears were only running silently down his cheeks as he took shuddering breaths and hiccupped. His eyes were closed and he sagged pale against Alfirin, giving his father room to maneuver his injured arm away from where he had tucked it against his chest. Thranduil removed the blood-soaked towel for a moment to study the deep wound before pressing it down again, his expression grim.

"Gimli, run and get Pengon," Thranduil told the dwarf quietly, so as to not panic Legolas. Gimli immediately nodded and moved slowly out of the room, as soon as the door closed behind him they could hear him setting off in a run.

"…I'm sorry…" Legolas whispered faintly. His lips bloodless and his cheeks lined with tears.

"Shh… It's going to be all right…" Thranduil hushed him, and after deliberating with himself for a second, he pulled Legolas gently into his arms and stood up. Alfirin moved with him and divided his attention between comforting Legolas and keeping pressure on the wound. He lifted Legolas' head so it lay comfortably against his father's shoulder.

"…Don't fall asleep just yet, Titta Lassë," Alfirin whispered to him, brushing his fingers through Legolas' silvery-white hair as Thranduil slowly carried him to the living room couch. When he reached it, he sat down with Legolas in his arms, propping him up against his chest.

"…I didn't mean to…" Legolas breathed, his voice growing fainter and fainter.

"I know you didn't," Thranduil soothed him, although no such conviction could be seen in Thranduil's eyes, only sadness. "It's all right, Legolas… You're going to be all right… Just relax, Pengon's going to come have a look at you… so you just focus on staying awake…"

Legolas was silent for a moment, his breath still painfully shuddering. Tears leaked from his eyes and he choked out a weak sob. "Dead… dead… dead… dead…" he choked under his breath. Before they could think to comfort him, he sagged boneless against his father, his breathing suddenly going quiet and deep, and his head lolling against his father's shoulder.

O

His body felt beyond heavy when he slowly neared consciousness once more, a sharp pain in his wrist drawing him out of sleep and the dark abyss. He cracked his eyes open and blinked sluggishly as the dim light flittering in from the windows.

"Granddad?"

A voice to his right made him turn his head, his mouth dry and his eyelids heavy. Caladel and Naruvir sat down on the floor beside the coach he was lying in. They looked tired and worried…

Without truly realizing it, his eyes had fallen shut once more and a gently nudge from his grandson reminded him to open them once more. What had happened…?

He didn't realize he had spoken out loud until Caladel answered, "You lost consciousness. Pengon came and took care of your wound and you've been sleeping ever since."

"…How long…?" Legolas mumbled, trying to moisten his dry lips.

Suddenly, the cold rim of a glass was held against his lips and he greedily drank the chilled water, allowing it to soothe his parched throat.

"You've been out for a few days," Naruvir answered softly once he had taken the glass away and placed it back of the table. "You had us worried for a long while…" He reached out to brush his fingers gently through Legolas' hair.

Legolas glanced down and saw that the wrist that sent sparks of pain up his arm was covered in layers of gauze and bandages, lying atop the blankets that covered him. He barely remembered what had happened, it all seemed like it was in a haze of panic.

"Granddad…" Caladel's voice made him look up once more. His eldest grandson was looking at him with pain and soberness in his normally twinkling, silver eyes. "You are going to sail to Valinor with us." He told him in a voice that brooked no nonsense.

Surprise at that statement caused the last edges of sleep were vanished from his mind and he stared at Caladel.

Naruvir snorted at his brother's approach. "We've decided to sail to Valinor," he explained to his grandfather. "And Glorfindel, Gimli, Nana, Ada, Elladan, Isilmë, Pengon, Gruinor, and Roben have decided to come with us. So, naturally, you are coming as well."

"Whether you like it or not," Caladel added.

"Great Granddad and Kirion and going to join us just as soon as soon as the last people of Mirkwood are taken care of, move those that will to Cirban Gilion and make sure that the city is well taken care of as well," Naruvir told him.

"Alfirin is the only one who we cannot rip away from his trees, but he's a crazy wood elf and it suits him just fine to finally be left in peace," Caladel said, hoping to soften the blow with humor.

"…But Eldarion, Ellairë, Lassiel…" Legolas whispered, his chest warm and tight at the same time. His heart thumped strongly inside his chest with relief he would not yet admit to.

"Have already said their goodbyes," Naruvir told him solemnly. "When they were in Minas Tirith, Great Granddad, Gimli, Nana, Ada, Elladan, and Isilmë sat them down and told them what was going to happen. They want you to leave as well, Granddad, they want you to have peace. Did they not say as much to you when they said goodbye?"

The relief inside his chest was slowly building up as his grandson's continued to speak and he could no longer stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. A sob escaped him and he slapped his hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to still them in front of his grandsons.

He wanted to leave… He wanted to leave so bad…

Naruvir and Caladel immediately wrapped their arms around him. "So you will come with us?" Caladel asked softly. "We still won't take no for an answer."

Legolas choked out a mixture of a sob and a laugh as he clung to his grandchildren. He nodded against their shoulders and gave in to the tears that had built up for so many years.

He had wanted to leave for so long…


	22. Haven

**Chapter twenty-two – Haven**

Water lapped against the beach close to where he sat on the sand, loosely hugging his legs. The smell of salt was in the air and the gulls cried gently above him, their cries no longer painful or demanding, as if they knew that he would join them soon.

Peace and relief had flooded him the instant he had finally decided to sail, but that didn't mean that the last month on Middle Earth had been easy… Tiredness and grief had pilled up inside him until he felt like he weighed more than a ton, the simple tasks of getting up in the morning or of following a conversation suddenly becoming almost impossible. He was world-weary… and had almost nothing left to fight for…

He didn't know what awaited him in Valinor, didn't know whether or not he should believe what the others believed, which was that the Valar would heal their wounds and give them peace… They had never done anything for him before, so why should they now when he was at the end of his rope.

Someone sitting down with a groan beside him made him look up. Gimli grumbled softly to himself as he came to sit on the sandy beach. The dwarf's beard and hair was completely grey now, only bearing faint streaks of the original red, rusty color. Gimli looked up at him and gave him a crooked grin. "My knees are killing me. Say, don't you think those fancy, tree-hugging gods of yours will take care of them? And my back now that they are on the subject."

A faint smile appeared on Legolas' lips. "Your guess is as good as mine, old friend," he told him, turning his gaze back to the gentle waves of the sea before them. "They have never done anything for me before, but perhaps they cannot resist your dwarvish charms."

Gimli snorted at that. "Bloody useless they are then," he responded. He was silent for a moment, but then he continued, "Say… Every elf I've met has sung praises to the Valar, everyone except you. I think even my faith in them is stronger than yours… Just when did you stop believing?"

"It's not that I don't think they're there… I just don't think that they care about individual elves, no doubt they are too preoccupied with their jewels and starlit trees…" Legolas whispered, his voice bitter and tired. He looked down at the sand between his feet. "It's hard to believe someone is watching over you, and taking care of you when you go through so much… Besides, it's not like I don't believe in anything… I believe in the trees, the stars, the earth… They take care of me more than any Valar has ever done…"

It was silent for a long while between them after that, and Legolas slowly found himself dropping into a light slumber. His rest that night had been filled with nightmares and he had woken to cold sweats and panicked breathing. For once, he had managed not to wake up Glorfindel, who had taken it upon himself to sleep beside him every night, so he had spent the rest of the night watching him sleep, trying to calm his racing heart.

Vaguely, he felt Gimli shifting closer and drawing him down so his head rested on the old dwarf's shoulder. He knew that all of them were worried about him, knew that he had lost a lot of weight and that his glow was becoming almost indiscernible. He avoided looking into mirrors because he knew that the face staring back at him with be pale and there would be bruise-like shadows underneath his eyes.

At night, he would sometimes dream that he was back in Faneth's arms, lying with his head on her chest as she gently ran her fingers through his hair and told him of her day or little stories of what Maliel had been up to. After dreams like that, he would wake up with a gaping emptiness in his chest that couldn't be filled out by anything.

Would she even recognize him if she saw him now…?

He barely recognized himself anymore. Everyone said that it was all right, that he was doing the best he could, and that everything was going to be all right, but as he saw what he had become he could feel nothing other than disgust. Shame burned in his chest when everyone went out of their way to care for him, when he could do nothing other than let them hold him like he was still a child…

He just couldn't do it anymore… couldn't fight it… He had been fighting for so long, there was nothing left in him any longer…

He didn't know how long he drifted in and out of sleep until another person kneeled before him, placing his or her hand on his shoulder and shaking him gently. Wearily, he forced his eyes open and found him face to face with a smiling Glorfindel.

"Come, Legolas," he said softly. "It is time."

A rare smile appeared on Legolas' lips at those words, tired but sincere. He took Glorfindel's hand as he lifted his head from Gimli's shoulder, and allowed his friend to pull him to his feet. Afterwards, the two of them helped the aging dwarf up as well and then they set out over the sand towards the harbor of the Grey Havens.

His father had stayed for a few weeks after Aragorn's passing, and they had enjoyed the quiet time together, saying their goodbyes, although they would see each other before too much time had passed. He had had his father's help writing letters to Eldarion, Ellairë, and Lassiel, and it had taken days before he could compose himself enough to write everything that he wanted to say to them. Kirion had joined them after a little while and stayed until it was time for the both of them to journey back to Eryn Lasgalen.

There was no need to make their parting harder than necessary by having them standing on the harbor while he sailed off…

He no longer worried for Cirban Gilion, the city had been almost managing itself for years, everything running smoothly and everyone carrying the responsibilities together. The city had thrown a great feast the evening before they had left, to say goodbye and send them off warmly. It had been a late night, with dancing under the stars, music, an abundance of food, and home-brewed mead.

The toughest goodbye had been to Alfirin, who had been with him for almost as long as he could remember, and who had been by his side as much as Glorfindel had after Faneth had passed, if not more. For the first time, he had been able to thank him for everything he had done, for stopping him hurting himself even when he had had begged him to him go. Alfirin had had the same no-nonsense attitude that he always had and a feral grin had spread over his cheeks as he wild-eyed told him it had been his pleasure.

Despite Alfirin's nonchalance, however, the final embrace he had given had been so tight that he could barely breathe, and he had hugged him back just as tightly, his throat clogged with tears he desperately tried not to shed.

He was leaving everything behind…

The shore soon gave way to a largely deserted city, only few elves were still staying in Mithlond, a lot of them had sailed from the Grey Havens the time when a most elves had decided to leave. One was leaving with them along with his family to guide their ship safely to Valinor, and the rest were now walking the docks to and fro the ship they were setting sail in, making last minute preparations.

Legolas stopped at the sight of the ship. Its white sails were being raised, ready to bear them over the sea. Gulls circled over the masts and from where he was standing he could see Maliel, Elrohir, and their two sons laughing upon the deck. Upon the pier stood Elladan and Isilmë. Isilmë was leaning against one of the pillars and Elladan stood close up against her, his arm braced over her head on the pillar. They were talking softly to each other, Elladan's lips lifted in a smile.

Pengon, Gruinor, and Roben were sitting on the pier, their feet hanging from it and touching the water. Legolas felt an instant sense of camaraderie as he looked at them. They had been through so much together… He wasn't the only one who had been damaged by the constant war they had been through. It was clear that the three that were left of his team also had difficulty adjusting to the new world, difficulty settling down and finding someone to share their lives with.

"Legolas?"

He was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of Glorfindel's voice. Blinking slowly, he realized that he had stopped and immediately began moving towards the harbor once more. As they stepped onto the pier, Glorfindel and Gimli moved towards Elladan and Isilmë, but Legolas turned to Roben, Pengon, and Gruinor instead. He walked over to them and squeezed himself in between Gruinor and Pengon

"Hey Captain," Pengon greeted him softly.

"Hey," he said softly, leaning his head against Pengon's shoulder and rocking his legs back and forth. He watched at his boots skimmed the surface of the clear saltwater.

"Ya ready ta go?" Gruinor asked him.

"I'm ready," he replied, gazing over at Gruinor. "Are you ready?"

"To the core," Gruinor replied gruffly.

"Me as well," Roben said with a sigh, looking out over the calm sea. "…If only they could all see us now… Aewon, Húron, Osbon, Ecthel, Thand, Amath, Callon, Maer, Taenor, and Hiwon… I don't even know what they would say anymore…"

"They would have been right here with us, on this very pier, giving a toast to old times," Pengon said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask of mead. He raised it. "To old times," he said and gulped down a few mouthfuls, his warm, brown eyes showing weariness and pain.

Afterwards, he handed it to Roben. "To old times," he echoed, swallowing the liquid down.

Legolas took it next, raising it towards the horizon as he whispered, "To old friends and comrades." He then gulped down the mead, feeling it create a pit of warmth in his stomach. He took an extra sip and then handed it over to Gruinor.

"And to new days ta come," Gruinor added gruffly. He guzzled down a few mouthfuls and then poured the rest of the mead into the sea. They watched as the last golden drops fell into the sea and were swallowed up. They sat there for a moment longer, but then Gruinor got to his feet.

"Come…" he said. "I may not know a lot, but I know that I they were all 'ere then they would've stood up an' faced tha storm head on, marchin' onto that ship with their heads held high. …The last journey for this ol' team."

He thrust out his hand to Legolas and pulled first his captain to his feet, followed by Pengon and Roben. As they looked up towards the ship, they saw that the others had already gathered upon the deck. Caladel and Naruvir waved for him to hurry onboard and Glorfindel waited here the boarding ramp met the wooden deck.

Realizing that Gruinor, Pengon, and Roben had already started moving only to stop and wait for him, made him draw in a deep breath and follow them up the pier. Soon, they reached the reached the ramp. Gruinor, Pengon, and Roben bravely sauntered up the ramp, but Legolas paused at its foot, turning to look back at the land he was leaving behind.

The sun was slowly rising in the sky, its orange light bathing the city of Mithlond and the trees behind it. Gentle waves hit the sandy shoreline, sparkling with the light of the sun. For a single instant, he felt peace in his heart as he looked back at the land he had defended for so long… hoping for just a second that his grief, his pain, and his exhaustion would stay upon those shores.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the salty air before turning around and stepping onto the ramp. The mead he had drunk already made his head buzz pleasantly because of how little food and sleep he had gotten the past days. Glorfindel was standing at the top of the ramp, and as their gazes met he saw the gentle encouragement in his eyes.

His lips raised in a slight smile before he looked down at his feet. Taking the first step, he began moving up the ramp, feeling as it dipped slightly from his weight. He moved slowly and at the top he turned once more to look over the land. This time, however, he turned away quickly and took the final step onto the deck, bumping against Glorfindel's chest and burrowing his face into his shoulder. Glorfindel's arms wrapped him up in a tight hug.

"There we are…" Glorfindel whispered. "All done. Now all that's left it to follow where this path leads you and trust in it. We'll be with you every step of the way. …Now come, let's go over to the others."

He nodded and as they moved over to where the others had gathered, the ship suddenly came to life. "Draw up the ramp!" Yelled the Captain from his position at the wheel. The Captain's son pulled Elladan over to help with that task and they quickly heaved the ramp onto the deck.

"Weigh anchor!"

Gruinor and Roben were pulled over by the Captain's daughter and instructed on how to pull up the anchor. Meanwhile, the Captain had Elrohir and Isilmë raise the sails completely. Soon they bulged out slightly with the wind and they drifted away from the docks, floating freely over the seas.

O

The stars were reflected in the still surface of the waters around the ship as they glided slowly towards the west. The ship was quiet and unlit, save for the lantern by the wheel where Cairon, their Captain, was standing, talking to his son Uilon. Their voices were carried gently through the air, but Legolas was not listening to their conversation. He stood upon the foredeck, leaning against the railing beside the ship's figurehead, lost in thought.

Once more, he had woken from a dream with Faneth. For a second when he woken, he had expected the find her beside him like always, her auburn hair fanned over the pillows and her amber eyes unfocussed in peaceful sleep. But there had been no one… The bed beside him just as empty as his heart…

He was barely able to stop a choked sob from escaping his lips, pressing his hand against his mouth in an attempt to quiet his distress so no one would hear it. He laid there for a while, tears rolling silently down his cheeks while he made convulsive gasps into the hand that covered his mouth, desperately trying to calm his breathing.

Rolling out of the bed at last, he had moved up onto the deck, his steps silent upon the wooden flooring of the ship. Before he had gone up the hatch, he had rubbed his sleeve over his cheeks and eyes so the Captain noticed nothing as he gave him a short nod before moving to the foredeck.

With a shuddering breath, Legolas moved out of the position he had stood in for half and hour, instead he braced his elbows on the railing and stood gazing down into the water where it brushed against the ship's sides, his hands hanging loosely over the side. He could see the soft white fabric of bandages underneath the burgundy sleeve of his nightshirt.

Without a thought, he pulled up his sleeve to reveal them completely, and slowly began to unwind them. The deep, diagonal cut he had made over his wrist was still red and angry against his skin, healing slower than it should have done. It crossed the older, horizontal scars on his wrist, cutting through them as if it was trying to erase them.

His chest felt hollow still from the dream he had had, a deep ache inside his heart that rung with emptiness. Numbly, he brought his other hand over to his wrist, pressing down on the red line with his thumb. A slight pain travelled from the wound and into his senses, replacing some of the emptiness inside. With a sigh, he pressed harder against it, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows.

At last, he pushed the nail of his thumb against it, some of the tension inside him uncurling at the pain. His mind sharpening once more as he focused on the physical pain instead of the pain in side his heart. A few drops of blood welling up immediately made him let go, and he briskly replaced the bandages around the wound, drawing his sleeve down and looking over the black oceans as if nothing had happened.

He was finally relaxed once more…

The slow motions of the waves rocked him gently and he found himself struggling to keep his eyes open. Sighing softly, he sat down upon the foredeck, leaning up against the railing right beside a hole through which he could watch the gentle movement of the waves.

Gradually, he was lulled asleep.

When he woke again it was to the sensation of being shaken. He forced his heavy eyes open and saw Uilon, the Captain's son, crouched before him, giving him a crooked smile. Sometime while he had been asleep, Uilon's blue cloak had been draped over him, keeping him warm in the slightly chilly night.

"Good mornin'," Uilon greeted him. Legolas glanced over to see that the deck was still empty other than the Captain at the wheel, the sky beginning to slowly lighten around them. "Ada says that we'll be reachin' Valinor with the sun. I'm going down to wake the others now."

He straightened out once more, brushing off his knees and combing his shoulder-length red hair behind his ears. Legolas made a move to take off the cloak that had been laid over him, but Uilon waved it away.

"Oh no," he chuckled. "The wind're gentle this night, 'sides you look like you need it more than me. I'll tell the others to bring up your pack and your cloak, you can give it back when you have your own."

"Thank you, Uilon," Legolas said to him. Uilon gave him a wink before sauntering off towards the hatch that led downwards. "…For everything…" he whispered to himself before looking through the opening to his side and watching the waves.

He sat there for a few minutes, slowly waking up, but then he got stiffly to his feet, pulling the cloak tighter around himself and shaking in the wind. Suddenly, though, he felt himself growing slowly warmer and a sweet fragrance came to the air. It was almost like crushing leaves of Athelas, a clean and peaceful scent gathering around him, almost like a feeling of home.

Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and felt the warmth settling inside his chest. It smelled of lavender, of moss between trees, of the clear running of silver rivers, …of Faneth. It was almost like the gentle wind was caressing his face, gently running its long fingers through his hair.

If you listened carefully, you could hear the faint singing of the swaying waters, happily floating the ship towards its destination. Its song was carried up to the ship by the wind, brushing along the surface of the water until it rolled over the deck of the ship in a gentle melody.

"Ada?"

He opened his eyes once more to the sight of his daughter coming to stand beside him. Maliel looked out over the sea with a peaceful look on her face, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She turned to him to say something but the words and her smile died no her lips as her eyes widened in surprise.

She blinked a few times and then reached out to place her hand against his cheek, giving him a suddenly watery smile. "Your eyes have lightened," she whispered. "Not by much, but it's still a long time since I've seen them so light."

Legolas blinked in response, reaching up towards his eye but lowered his hand again and looking over the seas. "There was a time when I had eyes lighter than your grandfather," he told her softly.

"I know, Ada," she said. "I still remember. …Perhaps one day they will be again."

"Don't set your hopes up," he mumbled under his breath. Afterwards, he sighed and took another deep breath of the fragrant, soothing air. "It's very peaceful here…"

"Uilon did say that we were nearing Valinor," Maliel told him, hoping up to sit on the railing, looking over her shoulder at the horizon with him. After a little while, she turned once more and waved towards the back of the ship.

Legolas turned and saw Glorfindel, Elrohir, Elladan, Isilmë, Gimli, Naruvir, Caladel, Uilon, and the rest of the Captain's family coming up from below ship. The Captain's wife, carrying their youngest child, and daughter went to the wheel while the others moved to the front deck after setting all of their packs against the railing.

Elrohir came up to stand beside Maliel, kissing her gently where she sat on the railing, and their two sons came over to them as well. Elladan, Isilmë, and Gimli gathered beside them, Isilmë and Gimli bantering good-naturedly. Glorfindel and Uilon came up to him, however, Glorfindel carrying his thick, moss green cloak in his hands.

Seeing this, Legolas took off the cloak Uilon had lent him. "Thank you, again, for letting me borrow it," he told him as he held out the cloak.

"You're welcome," Uilon answered, taking the cloak from him and flipping it over his broad shoulder. "Couldn't have you freezing upon my deck."

"Your father's deck, Uilon, not yours just yet." Glorfindel told him with a mocking grin even as he draped the cloak over Legolas' shoulders, closing the clasp under his neck. The days of sailing together had brought the whole crew together.

Uilon scoffed at Glorfindel's words, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just you wait, when we reach Valinor I have no doubt that dear old Ada will be far too busy raising another daughter to have any time to sail out on this vessel. Of course I will be there to lessen his burden of the arduous task of catching fish. The good son that I am."

Glorfindel was just nodding along in mock understanding.

"And besides, he is getting old, no doubt the job is too taxing for his weakening-" the rest of his words were cut off in a choke as his father suddenly stepped up behind him and trapped him in a headlock.

"What was that you were saying about your _old_ man, son?" Cairon asked pleasantly, his muscular arm tightening around his son's neck.

"Nothing…" Uilon wheezed. "Nothing at all…"

"I thought not," Cairon spoke before releasing his son, grinning at him before whacking him gently over the back of the head. "Now you watch yourself or that head of yours is going to fly off your shoulders!"

Uilon smiled sheepishly to him as he rubbed the back of the head.

"Who's steering the ship?" Glorfindel asked the Captain.

Cairon turned his gaze to him. "The ships steering itself, I can't even rock it off the course it's laid for us. The waters pulling us in now, I think we should trust it."

They looked over the water once more, all of them lost in their own thoughts. Legolas leaned against the railing, and as they watched it seemed as though a fog gathered around the ship, barring their views of the sunlit waters until it all turned to silver glass and rolled away, blinding them by the sight of white shores and beyond a far green county under a swift sunrise.

The fresh and sweet smell in the air was even clearer now, as well as the song on the waves. Legolas closed his eyes to the breeze, feeling as it swept warmly over his features and listening to the gulls as they swept overhead. As he opened his eyes again, he gazed at the green country, the forests and houses upon it. The edges of the island were lined with white beaches and the sky behind it was colored in blue and orange as the sun rose over the horizon.

"There it is," Glorfindel said softly beside him. Legolas glanced back at him just as he leaned his head against his shoulder, looking out at the familiar sight.

Legolas leaned his cheek against Glorfindel's hair and closed his eyes, focusing on his senses. He could feel the peace in the very air around him, feel the warmth that seemed to enter his very body.

The drifted slowly towards the pier on the sandy beach of the island, the boat coming to a gentle stop exactly where it was supposed to. There were elves gathered around the docks, a few of them accepting the boarding ramp as Ciaron and Uilon sent it down to the pier.

It all seemed so chaotic to him, the boarding, as if everything was happening in the distance. Ciaron and his family went onto the ramp, throwing down the bags to those below before they went down to the docks, embracing the elves there like they were family.

Legolas gazed down upon the docks and his breath caught in his throat as he saw people he recognized. For a moment, he didn't want to go down there, because he knew that he had changed so much… What if they did not recognize him?

He took a shuddering breath, averting his head from the dock and looking down upon his hands where they were clenching the railing.

"Legolas…" Glorfindel's voice made him clench his eyes shut. "It's all right. …We'll do this together, you and me. One step at a time."

Glorfindel cupped his cheeks and lifted his head, making him open his eyes once more. Those light blue eyes that were looking into his were so gentle and calm, and he latched onto those feelings as if it could transfer them to himself.

"Come on," Glorfindel said, taking his hand and pulling him gently towards the ramp.

It was then that Legolas saw that the others had already gathered by the ramp, waiting for him. His mouth was dry and he moistened his lips before opening his mouth to say something to Glorfindel, the words never made it out of his mouth, though, because in the next moment it felt like wind puffed him gently – but firmly – in the back and he stumbled forward a step. He looked behind him in surprise but there was nothing there.

When he looked back at Glorfindel, he found that the panic he felt was mostly gone and he gave his friend a weak smile before moving with him towards the ramp. He closed his eyes as he followed Glorfindel; deeply breathing in the clean air and feeling it fill him once more.

They moved down the ramp and as his foot hit the pier, Legolas felt himself growing steadier in his calmness, his steps more sure as they walked after the others. The two dockworkers that had helped with the disembarking welcomed them warmly before running up the ramp to take care of the ship.

They continued on towards the square behind the dock where everyone had gathered. Maliel, Elrohir, Naruvir, Caladel, Elladan, Isilmë, and Gimli reached it before them and Legolas finally allowed himself to focus on the faces of those who had come out to meet them.

His throat clenched as he looked around and saw Elrond, Celebrian, Galadriel, and Gandalf standing to one side. Elrohir and Elladan were already hurrying to their mother and father, tears running down their cheeks as they embraced Celebrian, who looked completely healed and laughed through her own tears as she held them close to her.

Maliel gave them a moment before bringing over Caladel and Naruvir, introducing them to their grandsons whilst greeting her mother-in-law for the very first time. Isilmë came over as well, wrapping her arms around Elladan and kissing the tears off his cheeks, before getting introduced into the family as well.

Legolas watched the reunion with a smile on his lips, one that only grew when he looked beside them and saw Gimli bowing to the Lady Galadriel, no doubt flattering her shamelessly as he showed her the jewel he had made with her three golden hairs, causing Gandalf to choke on the smoke he inhaled from his pipe.

He then turned his gaze to the left and his smile faded somewhat in surprise as a form barreled into him. For a moment, he just stood there, but then he felt exactly who was in his arms and returned the embrace tightly, he would know her anywhere…

"Hithel…" he whispered into her platinum hair.

"Oh brother…" she whispered choked. "What have you done to yourself?" She drew back and studied him with those aquamarine eyes of hers, dimmed with worry and pain. Legolas averted his eyes from her gaze and she seemed to shake herself. "It doesn't matter," she told him, pressing a kiss against his forehead. "As long as you are here now… Come, I have someone I want you to meet."

She drew back and he looked up to see Gwaur standing behind her. This wasn't what drew his attention, though; it was the small elfling that stood halfway behind his leg. The boy had soft, green eyes and blond hair with a slightly reddish tint that he had inherited from his father.

A soft smile appeared on Hithel's gaze and she gestured towards her son. "Aewon, come here please."

Legolas felt his breath catch in his throat at those words, looking at Hithel with wide eyes. She turned her soft smile to him, a mixture of pain and pride in her eyes. She then turned the attention back to her son as he gave a toothy grin before running to her. She kneeled and embraced him warmly.

She guided the child's attention to her brother. "See here, Aewon. This is your Uncle…" Legolas crouched before the child as those soft, green eyes were turned to him. "He was a very dear friend to the elf were named for and he's come a long way to see you."

"Hello Aewon," Legolas whispered gently, his voice slightly pained.

"Hello Uncle!" Aewon grinned and threw his arms around him before smacking a kiss against his cheek. Legolas blinked in surprise but chuckled and gave the elfling a hug. Gwaur laughed and moved towards them, pulling Aewon into his arms so Legolas could straighten out once more.

"It's good to see you again, Legolas," Gwaur told him, his kind eyes studying his.

Legolas drew Gwaur into a short hug. "You as well… I-" All words died on his lips as he looked over Gwaur's shoulder and saw Gilrin and Fanor standing their, Fanor's arm around his wife's shoulders.

Faneth's parents…

He felt instantly like he had taken a blow to the stomach, his mouth dry and his heart beating wildly inside his chest. Gwaur looked over to see what had caught his attention and his eyes held an unreadable look when he saw Gilrin and Fanor. He gave Legolas a soft smile and patted him gently on the back before letting him go.

He instantly moved over to Faneth's parents, feeling more like he was staggering than anything else. They came to him quickly and drew him into their arms the exact moment he wasn't sure his own legs could hold his weight any longer.

"I'm so sorry…" he choked to them. "It was all my fault and I'm so sorry…"

"Shh…" Gilrin hushed him, holding him and rubbing his back in a motherly gesture. "It's all right, Legolas."

"It wasn't your fault, son," Fanor added. "You never meant for any of it to happen… we know that. And besides-"

"Legolas."

The voice behind him was soft and the instant he heard it he felt all of his pain and tenseness draining away. It sounded so gentle and kind that tears almost welled up in his eyes. He could see Gilrin and Fanor smile as he drew back from them to look behind him.

A woman stood there, clad in a dress of soft grey. Flowers and leaves of Athelas were braiding into her long, silver hair and she looked at him with such all-knowing, gentle eyes, eyes that seemed to look straight into his soul and still filled him with such comfort. There was a bright glow around her, and she was more beautiful and ethereal than any he had met. Her rosy lips lifted in a smile and he felt transfixed by her eyes as she moved closer.

Her bare feet treaded lightly on the ground, the grass around her foot becoming straighter and more green and the flowers extending their petals as she moved past them. The soft fabric of her grey dress trailed over the grass behind her feet, shimmering in every color imaginable.

"You have carried this burden for too long, my soldier," she said softly, her voice almost nothing but a whisper as she stopped right in front of him, looking pained at him through those glimmering, silvery green eyes of hers. She closed her eyes as she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead.

In an instant, all the crashing waves of pain and guilt and shame and grief seemed to become calm, almost peaceful. He almost fell to his knees as the weight of the burdens fell off his shoulders but managed to stay standing as his body released some of the tension it had been holding on to for so long…

Tears glittered down his cheeks but he didn't notice this as she drew back and looked into his eyes once more, reaching down to take his hands in hers. She smiled to him. "You have fought more bravely than any on this earth, my soldier," she told him with that soothing voice of hers. "It is time that you were free of these burdens, of these chains… Do you know who I am?"

Legolas struggled to make his mouth form words, but finally managed a hoarse, "I did not believe in you…"

The smile upon her lips dimmed slightly in pain but the gentleness in her eyes continued to hold him captive as she reached up and brushed her glowing fingers over his cheek. "Perhaps not," she said. "But you wanted to… With all of your heart, you wanted to."

Legolas choked out a sob before taking a shuddering breath to calm his emotions. "Estë…" he whispered, and a smile lit up her eyes as the name rolled off his lips. "Estë the Gentle… Healer of hurts and weariness. One of the seven Queens of the Valar."

"You have waited a long time to come to me, almost too long," she said to him, her hand moving from his right hand to his wrist and instantly he felt the pain from his still healing cut disappear completely. "But I have been watching you for a long time, Legolas."

"And you… you will heal me?" he asked hesitantly, his eyes lowering to the ground.

"There is only so much I can do…" Estë told him, her voice gentle and saddened as she reached under his chin and lifted his head so his eyes met hers once more. "I may be able to heal the marks that battle made upon you, I may be able to soothe your grief and calm your panic but I will never be able to fill the hole in your heart… there is only one that can do that…"

"…And she is far gone…" Legolas choked, tears welling up inside his eyes.

Estë smiled at those words, "Not as far gone as you may think…"

He was about to ask her what she meant when he caught sight of another figure behind the Valar, his breath instantly caught inside his throat as he stared at her, unable to believe what he was seeing. His heart beat uncontrollably in his chest in a panic that not even Estë could soothe away.

As the figure took a step closer, he backed away, clenching his eyes shut and pressing his hands against his ears, waiting for himself to wake and realize that everything had just been a dream, that he was back on the ship with Gimli snoring in the bed next to his. He couldn't believe it… he didn't dare believe it…

"Legolas…"

He pressed his hand tighter against his ears at the sound of her voice, so familiar that pain lashed through his chest fiercely enough to send him to his knees. He had forgotten what her voice sounded like… he had forgotten what is sounded like when she said his name…

"Oh Legolas…"

Someone knelt before him, fingertips gently brushing over his completely bloodless cheeks.

"Look at me, my love," her voice whispered. "Open your eyes. Trust me… Trust me as you once did."

His whole body was trembling, the pain inside his heart so all-consuming that he could barely think. One part of him longed to fall into his comforting arms and let all of his pain fade even if it only was for a little while and the other knew that if he gave in to it now then the pain when he finally woke up and realized it had only been a dream would paralyze him.

"Open you eyes, Legolas…" she told him once more.

His endurance was stretched as thin as it had ever been, his whole body crying out in longing. With a choked sob, he let his eyes open and his hands to slide down from his ears, pulling frustrated at his silvery hair as they moved down to his lap. He had trouble seeing for the water in his eyes and fluttered his eyelashes to remove the liquid.

Immediately, his eyes locked with ones of amber, their depths that of gold and honey and lined with thick, dark eyelashes. The sadness and pain inside them seemed so real, and he reached out to place a shaking hand against her cheek, slowly tracing her features. His fingers mapped her dark eyebrows, her rosy cheeks, and her soft lips… brushing through her thick, curling auburn hair, just as her golden eyes were studying him.

"Faneth…" he breathed, choked, her name so foreign upon his lips after so long. He no longer cared if it was a dream or a reality, no longer cared who was watching him, standing around him. His fingers brushed away the tears that rolled down her cheeks as her soft lips lifted in a beautiful smile. "Faneth…"

They met each other like the waves that crashed against the shore, falling into each other's arms and holding each other so tightly that it would probably leave bruises. Tears rolled down their cheeks and they both trembled as they tried to hold back their sobs. Legolas buried his face in Faneth's shoulder and she ran her fingers gently through his hair.

"Legolas…" she whispered and then gave a choked laugh, tightening her arms around him even more. She gave a few sobs and choked out, "I should have stayed longer… I should have trusted you… It's all my fault…"

"No!" Legolas barked hoarsely, pulling her closer against him as she shook and trembled with sobs. "Never your fault. Never…"

Time seemed to stand still for them as they rested in each other's arms once more, neither able to pull back, almost as if they thought the other would disappear if they let go. Legolas was bone-weary, tears continuously rolling down his cheeks. Every time he was close to falling asleep he would startle himself awake and grip Faneth even tighter to him, afraid that if he fell asleep he would wake to find her gone.

He was almost asleep once more when he felt her move away from him, desperately he jerked his eyes open but his panic subsided as he felt her soft lips against his, kissing him with so much desperation, pain, and longing. He reached up to cup her wet cheeks and nibbled her lower lip until she opened her mouth, deepening the kiss with his own desperation to be closer to her. His chest felt like it was full of burning lava, tight and hot at the same time.

As they finally drew back, they rested their foreheads against each other's, slowly catching their breaths and looking into each other's eyes, blue and amber clashing after so long, both wounded and in pain. Together but still apart…

"Nana…"

The choked voice of her daughter made Faneth look away from Legolas and he felt a momentary sense of panic as he lost her attention, feeling like she was slipping away from him once more. It disappeared almost instantly, though, when her hand squeezed his.

A third person joined their hug as Maliel threw her arms around the both of them, crying and laughing at the same time.

"How did this come to be?" Maliel choked, before drawing back to rub her sleeve over her tears.

"I demanded to be released from the halls the second I realized Legolas was still alive," Faneth told her daughter hoarsely, studying her with tears rolling down her cheeks for she had not seen her for so long. "At last Estë came and said that there was a need for me… a debt that they needed to repay to your father…" She looked over into her husband's dark blue eyes once more, swearing to herself that she would heal him once more. "That you needed me…" she told him.

Legolas felt tears gather in his eyes and buried his face in the crook of her neck, wanting nothing more than to never have to move again.

"Faneth…"

She looked to the side, once more drawn away from her husband. Elrohir had kneeled down beside Maliel and there were two others behind him.

"Hey Elrohir," she whispered gently.

He smiled to her, his eyes holding a mixture of pain and joy. "We never thought that you would get to meet them, but you have two grandsons now," he told her softly. Her eyes immediately went wide and she looked up at the two figures behind Elrohir, suddenly seeing the resemblance they had to Maliel and Elrohir. They were grown twins…

"Nana, this is Caladel," Maliel introduced them in a choked voice, the twins smiled to her and gave her a small wave as their names were called. "And this is Naruvir.

Faneth's eyes lit up at that, her smile becoming soft. "Caladel and Naruvir," she tested and their smiles grew.

"Grandma," Caladel said cheekily.

Naruvir rolled his eyes at him, but afterwards he looked at his grandmother with wise gaze. "You don't have to worry about us right now, I'm sure there will be plenty of time to get to know each other."

Faneth smiled but her eyes looked suddenly pained, and she looked at Elrohir. "How much time has passed…?" Her voice was faint but the dread in it was clear.

Elrohir sighed and gazed to Legolas' exhausted form. "Two hundred years," he answered her dully.

Faneth immediately paled. For a moment she was frozen, but then tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. She wrapped her arms tightly around Legolas once more, feeling his bones underneath his skin from the weight he had lost and closing her eyes in pain.

O

Later that day, Faneth gently pulled Legolas into the bedroom of their house. They had been at the pier for a while longer, greeting those that had turned up to see them, but it was clear to all that the only one Legolas needed at that moment was Faneth. At last, it was Elrond who told them to go home, so Faneth gently guided him to the cottage they had been given by the forest.

Legolas' eyes were fixated upon her and his hand still hadn't let go of hers, unwilling to let her leave sight and touch despite the fact that she could see he was physically and mentally exhausted. She felt her heart clench every time she looked into the dark, blueness that was in his eyes, saw the grief and pain that filled their depths.

"Here we are," she told him softly, embracing him gently once more. "Home sweet home."

Legolas wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. Valar… If this was a dream then never let him wake up…

"Sit down, Legolas, you are exhausted," she told him. She pressed a sweet kiss against his lips before pulling him over to the bed. He sat down, but the moment she moved away from him to the closet, he got to his feet again and followed her.

Her pearly laughter sounded so familiar to him and he let it wash over him as he leaned again the side of the closet, watching her as she pulled out a nightshirt, leggings, and a nightdress before closing it once more. Then they moved to the bed, Faneth pulling him with her to sit on top of the soft mattress.

"Are you right?" she asked him, gently running her fingers over his cheek.

He gave her a pained smile. "If you stay with me…" he whispered choked, a hint of apprehension in his voice.

She cupped his cheeks, her amber eyes looking fiercely into his. "I'm not going anywhere," she told him gravely. For a second, she continued to study him, her eyes flittering back and forth between his, only when he relaxed slightly from her declaration did she give him a small smile and press a kiss against his cheek.

His eyes fluttered closed in exhaustion and she reached down to unclasp the buckle of his cloak before drawing it off of him. When she made a movement to take off his shirt, though, he pulled back, for the first time completely moving away from her touch. His cheeks flushed and he averted his gaze from hers as he held the neckline of his shirt in a cramp-like grip.

"Legolas?" she asked him softly. He clenched his eyes shut at the wound of his name from her lips. It didn't take long before her hand gently covered his clenched one. "It doesn't matter," she told him. "Whatever it is, it doesn't matter… I already have everything that I could possibly want just by having you by my side… I don't care about anything else. …Let me see, Legolas."

Murmured coaxing gradually made him loosen his grip on the shirt until she was able to pull it away, pressing a kiss against his palm before placing it in his lap. She gently untied the neckline of his shirt and drew it off of him. Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment Legolas drew into himself as he waited for her to be disgusted by what she saw.

His eyes snapped open instantly, however, when gentle lips pressed against the cold wounds in his shoulder and he felt warmth travel through them. It was almost like an electrical current running through him and he gasped in response, looking at Faneth with wide eyes.

She looked up at him sadly as she took his wrist in hand and pressed kisses against the self-inflicted wounds that lined his wrists. He began trembling in response, tears welling up in his eyes. She took the other wrist in hand and gently unwound the bandages there. The once angry wound had faded to a scar when Estë had touched, and now Faneth kissed this as well.

A choked sob escaped his lips, and immediately Faneth wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as he cried in her arms. Gently she lowered that both down to lie on the bed, still holding him tightly, and they just laid there for the longest while in each other's arms. Legolas gradually giving in to sleep to the sound of Faneth's whispered promises that she would be there when he woke up.

And so he rested there in the arms of the woman who was and always would be, his only _Haven_.


	23. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Icy blue eyes gazed upon the tombstone before him, a gentle smile playing upon his lips and a flower twirling around in his fingers.

"They are all doing well, my friend," he said gently. "Maliel has just become a grandmother, Naruvir has a daughter now and Caladel is finally beginning to settle down at last. My father and Kirion joined us last summer and they settled down beside Hithel and Gwaur, my father adoring his knew grandson and soon to be granddaughter. Aewon has just started sword training, although it's mostly for sport and nothing else.

"Gandalf still misses your companionship when smoking his pipe, but he's enjoying himself pestering Galadriel and Celeborn so you don't have to feel sorry for him. I think Gruinor is the one who misses you the most apart from me, there was no doubt that you were kindred spirits… He's still an old bachelor and I don't think that will ever change. Pengon and Roben are living together, though, unable to find anyone who could understand what they had been through except each other."

He blushed and looked down as he scratched his head, a stupid grin on his lips. "You're probably laughing up there, wherever you are, but… Faneth is pregnant with a baby girl. We are going to call her Emelin, just like we had planned to so many years ago… before everything happened." Legolas huffed, a brief look of pain appearing in his eyes before he took a deep breath and smiled wryly.

"No doubt, they are all wondering where I am right now," he continued. "Faneth should know, though, she always knows where I am." Warmth blossomed in his chest. "I just wanted to come and tell you that everything is going all right here… I just wish that you could be here to see it old friend… The fellowship ended so long ago…"

He reached out and traced Gimli's name upon the headstone before looking down the line, gazing at the names of Sam, Frodo and Bilbo. There were all gathered here in the glade, flowers of athelas growing upon their graves and vines climbing up their gravestones.

"Legolas?"

He looked up to see Faneth entering the glade, one hand on her slightly rounded stomach as she smiled to him. She came up to him where he was sitting in front of Gimli's grave and placed a hand on his shoulder, his spirit immediately latching onto his and filling him with warmth.

"Hey there you old rascal," she said with a smile upon her lips as she gazed at Gimli's tombstone. "I'm sorry, but I will have to borrow my husband for a little while."

Legolas stood up in response and placed the flower he had been twirling around behind her ear, giving her a loving smile. He drew her closer for a moment and kissed her softly before placing his hand upon her stomach and feeling the baby within latch onto his energy and draw strength from him.

"Come, they are all waiting for us," she told him gently, reaching down to place her hand in his.

They walked together out of the glade, Legolas glancing back once but otherwise following her with peace in his heart and they walked through the forest. It wasn't long before they came through an opening in the trees, leading into a large clearing by a waterfall. Everyone had gathered there and waved at them when they saw them. A large blanket was spread out upon the grass along with baskets of food and wine. Naruvir and his wife were by the pool under the waterfall, monitoring the children as they splashed around in the water.

Legolas felt a smile spread out on his lips.

He was home.

* * *

And the audience sits in complete silence as the final notes of the story slowly fade in the wind. Lord, it has been a long journey this one and I couldn't have made it through it without all of you on the sidelines, urging me on and encouraging me, wherever you may come from, whoever you may be.

So far it is unknown if this will be the last story in the series, we'll have to see what the future brings us, but for now I would like to say farewell and it has been a pleasure.

Thank you, all of you, for everything,

HelloDenmark


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